


I'll Let You (Teach Me)

by saucyminx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-11
Updated: 2010-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-28 05:30:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 58,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyminx/pseuds/saucyminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finally convinces his father to send him on a solo hunt, when he meets a green-eyed teacher who’s the center of the case his life gets complicated. (non-brothers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a cold, frost bitten morning and the sun was just barely lifting above the houses across the street from the school building. Generally Dean Johnson wouldn't be heading into his place of work so early, but he'd forgotten a large stack of papers on the truth of Christopher Columbus' discovery of the new world and had been too exhausted to go back and get them the night before. Between a full class load and supervising the technology club after school, it was often a surprise to him that he managed to get the four or five hours of sleep he did get each night. But Dean had known what being a teacher would mean and since he was the youngest in the school, they tended to pile him with work.

The halls were empty and eerily quiet but Dean enjoyed the peace of the large building without any of the noisy teenagers that usually occupied it. Not that he minded his students, in fact he was fairly fond of all of them, but there was something to be said for enjoying the quiet moments. Dean hummed _Smoke on the Water_ as he headed down the hall to his classroom, reaching out to press a firm hand into a half open locker. Dean stopped a table halfway down the hall, picking up a few dried leaves from a dying rose that had been laid out in memory of the two students who had passed in the last few months. It was a tragedy to see such young people die, before they even had the chance to really experience life, but Dean supposed that was one of the hazards of living in this world.

A few minutes later he was shouldering the heavy wooden door to his classroom open, eyes flickering over the empty desks before settling on his own. The stack of ungraded papers sat right in the middle and Dean shook his head at himself, wondering how he could have forgotten them. Dropping his shoulder bag under the desk, Dean tugged open the top drawer, eyes scanning for his red pen. Something loud crashed on the opposite side of the room and Dean looked up, starting slightly in his chair. His eyes fixed on a cup rolling along the floor, a large puddle of water pooling from the place it had fallen.

Dean frowned and pushed up, walking slowly down the classroom. The window beside the ledge the cup had probably been sitting on was only open a few inches, hardly enough to knock a full cup of water over. Dean scratched along the back of his neck for a moment before shrugging and heading out of the classroom, down the hall to the janitor's closet for a mop and bucket.

Pulling the door open, Dean stepped inside the room, hand slapping along the wall until he hit the switch and illuminated the room. " _Fuck_ ," Dean gasped in shock, jumping back as his eyes fixed on the hanging limp body of a girl. He barely caught a glimpse of her face and only vaguely recognized her pale, lifeless skin before he turned and stumbled out of the closet, clutching at his churning stomach. His fingers fumbled along his pants until he could jam his hand into his pocket and pull out his cell phone. As he listened to the rings he stumbled the rest of the way down the hall and outside, sucking in a quick breath of crisp morning air.

-=-=-=-

Sam glanced at John Winchester over the top of the laptop screen trying to judge what kind of mood his father was in. Sam had slipped out of his bed early and made a pot of coffee in the in-room coffee pot hoping to start his Dad's morning off on the right foot. John had a paper spread out on the bottom of his bed and was cleaning his shotgun. The smell of gun oil mingled with the scent of the brewed coffee made Sam smile; some things never changed.

"So, Dad, I've been looking up some cases online," Sam peered at his father over the screen keeping an eye on his expression.

"Yeah," the bolt of the shotgun clunked back into place, "find anything interesting?" John reached over and took a sip of his steaming coffee.

"Well, there's this highschool?" Sam turned his lap top slightly. He was still trying to ease the older Winchester into the idea of using the internet to do a lot of his research rather than local Libraries. "Brentwood High School." Sam leaned back in his chair and swept his hair back off his forehead. "Not far from here."

John's lips twitched into a slight smile. "Where ya goin' with this Sammy?"

Giving in and grinning, Sam pushed the laptop sideways so his father could see the article he was reading. "Three high school seniors have died there Dad. The police ruled them all to be suicides but the students, everyone who knew them insisted they weren't depressed and had no reason to kill themselves." Sam shifted on his chair and leaned forward, resting his arms across his thighs. "I was thinking, maybe, I could go and check it out," Sam looked down at his boots and took a deep breath, "you know, by myself." Sam had been after his father for _months_ to let him start hunting alone. They both knew he couldn't spend the rest of his life sharing motel rooms with his Dad and at seventeen Sam figured if he didn't start learning to rely on himself he'd never make a great hunter.

John cleared his throat and looked down at his coffee mug. "Sammy..."

"Dad," Sam cut his father off, he had a small window of time during which his Dad would even entertain the idea. "You can drive me over and register me - it's just the next town. I can actually take a couple of classes. There's a history class that would help out a lot with hunts, newer teacher who's really good, real open-minded." He glanced up at John's look of surprise and felt his cheeks flush. "I ... I read the student bulletin boards while I was trying to find out more about the case. Everyone says this guy..." he slid his finger over the touch pad and clicked on another window, "Mr. Johnson... he's a really cool teacher and has some new ideas and theories about some historical events. He found that last body too, Dad. It's a good case for me."

Sighing John sat back a little on the bed and raised his eyebrows as he locked his eyes with his son's. "Sam I'm in the middle of a job here I can't run you in there every morning."

"There's a Motel about four blocks from the school, if you take me there I could check in and stay by myself for a few weeks till you finish up here. I've been saving up some money so I can cover it. You could take me in to the school and register me the first morning then take off and come straight back here." Sam held his father's gaze.

"What's your theory?"

Encouraged, Sam couldn't help smiling. Usually his Dad had said _no_ by this point in the conversation. "I think it's a ghost, a spirit. There were no problems at the school until Amanda Brown died. Hers was the first body found, the disturbances started after that and they all seem to center around this ... Mr. Johnson." Sam didn't feel the need to point out that Mr. Johnson was pretty good-looking and probably had a lot of students with crushes on him. In the first place he wasn't sure it was connected to the case and then - there was the whole explaining to his Dad that he was sometimes attracted to guys. He'd save it for later.

John put his coffee mug down so he could pick up the cloth off the bed and wipe down the barrel of his shot gun. "So, a potential salt and burn. You know that you can't head into something like this thinking that your theory is the _only_ theory, yeah?" Putting the shotgun back in its case he grabbed his coffee again and took a sip.

Rolling his eyes Sam shifted back in his seat, "yeah Dad I know. I've been doing this a long time now. I've just got some ideas of where to start, who I might need to speak to. I won't get caught by overlooking something before I've ruled it out." Sam's father had taught him well. In their line of work nothing could be relied upon as _fact_. Since Sam was six years old when his father had revealed to him that the monsters under his bed might just be real - Sam had been learning how to be a good hunter.

"You gonna call me if you need help?" John rubbed a hand down his face and shook his head as though he couldn't actually believe he was agreeing to send his son out on his first solo hunt.

"'Course I would, Dad. If I've learned anything it's when to get the hell out. I'm not going to do anything stupid." Sam's knee started to bounce. This was the most positive his Dad had ever been about sending Sam out on his own.

"Okay," John took another sip of coffee.

"Okay?" Sam launched up out of his chair not quite ready to believe what he'd heard.

"You deaf, Sammy?" John grinned as he stood and walked over to tousle his son’s hair. "Yeah, you're good. Gotta start sometime, yeah?" He shrugged a shoulder. "If you're ready I'll take you over in the morning get you settled. But," he jabbed at finger at his son's chest, "you call or text me every day so I know you're good and if things get even slightly out-of-control you stand down and wait for me. We clear?"

"Yeah," Sam grinned and slapped his Dad's shoulder, "thanks Dad." His first solo hunt and it only took about a year to convince his father he could do it. Sam figured he'd better get it right.

-=-=-=-

As soon as his Dad had registered Sam at school they walked to the front doors and Sam watched his father drive off. Sam felt that familiar _first day_ anxiety skitter down his spine. He'd been in and out of schools the entire time they'd been hunting but they didn't stay in one place very long and John didn't seem to be too worried about Sam's knowledge or education. Sam figured that he probably would never be anything but a hunter so he wasn't sure there was much point. He stood for a while at the front doors, getting reacquainted with the rush of bodies, the buzz of voices. Sighing, he wondered briefly what he'd gotten himself into. Pulling his schedule out of his jacket pocket he headed down the hallway looking for Mr. Johnson's history class.

He peered through the door when he found the right room before slipping in with a stream of arriving students. He made his way down the front of the room to the teacher's desk and fumbled around in his bag for the slip of paper he was to hand over to Mr. Johnson. When he finally found it he was trying to straighten it out flat on the desk when he saw a hand leaning on the desk. "Mr. Johnson," he said sliding the paper forward then looking up into a pair of startlingly clear green eyes. He blinked, eyes moving over the face in front of him. Not only were Mr. Johnson's eyes possibly the greenest that Sam had ever seen, he was _really_ good looking too. Sam smiled shyly - maybe being in class wasn't going to be so bad after all. He brushed his hair back off his forehead and held the picked the paper up and held it out. "I'm Sam ... Sam Winchester." There were freckles scattered across Mr. Johnson's cheeks and Sam couldn't stop looking at them so he looked back down at his feet.

Dean smiled at the boy and reached out for the paper, pulling it up from the desk, "Hey, nice to meet you." His eyes lifted to the classroom, scanning over the desks with a slightly curious expression. He knew the students in this school and they had been having a hard few months, especially recently after the third suicide. They were regarding this new boy, Sam, with tense eyes and Dean frowned slightly, he didn't envy him - being the new student. "Why don't you go ahead and take a seat now, then maybe you can stop by during lunch and I can get you the appropriate books and things you need,” he suggested helpfully, turning his smile back up to Sam.

The smile, under the freckles, _next_ to those eyes sent Sam shuffling away quickly. He moved as far back as he could, realizing he needed to be able to see people and keep an eye on things. Slipping into a free desk he had a quick look around and saw a few laptops. He pulled his computer out and flipped it open and then scanned the students as it booted up. For the most part people seemed to be ignoring him now the novelty of his arrival was over. There was heaviness in the classroom; but then another body had been found and Sam realized that a lot of the students must still be reeling from recent events.

"Good morning everyone," Dean greeted his class, pausing behind the desk for a moment before picking up the stack of papers he'd finally gotten around to finishing. "As you all surely noticed we have a new student," Dean gestured toward the boy with the papers, "Sam Winchester. I expect you all to be on your best behavior and don't do anything that might suggest just how insane we all are." He grinned at the teenagers as they all chuckled softly. "I've finally finished these," Dean held up the papers before beginning to walk down the rows, handing papers back to the various people he passed. "Okay why doesn't everyone pull out their books and open to page one thirteen, today we'll be starting on sixteenth century early America." Dean snagged an extra history book from the shelf as he passed and laid it on Sam's desk a moment later, smiling softly down at him.

The class was interesting; Mr. Johnson was - as most of the students online had said - a great teacher. He was obviously interested in his subject, managed to throw in quite a lot of humor. Sam could tell the class was more subdued than usual; he'd been in enough High Schools over the years to think that they were incredibly quiet. He used his time to do a bit more research online hoping that it wasn't too obvious that he wasn't paying as much attention as he should have been. The class passed by quickly and before he knew it - people were moving around Sam, gathering books, making plans and he was still sitting there wondering what he was doing next. Closing the top on his laptop Sam fished around in his pocket for the paper with his schedule on it. As he packed up he watched Mr. Johnson sink down into his chair, frowning, obviously affected by what was going on in the school. As he walked out of the classroom Sam realized he wanted to get moving on the hunt as quickly as possible.

His other class was English and passed quickly, they were reading Romeo and Juliet which Sam had covered on more than one occasion. It was easy for him to participate. He was glad when lunch arrived although it occurred to him on the way back to the History classroom that he hadn't brought any lunch. He'd figure out where the cafeteria was after he spoke to Mr. Johnson. He tapped on the door with his knuckle and headed into the room.

Looking up from his desk, Dean smiled at Sam and gestured to the chair he'd carried over to sit in front of his desk. "Hey Sam, take a seat." He shifted the papers on his desk, waiting until Sam got situated before shifting forward and sliding the papers toward the boy. "So there's a few information packets, things you'll need to know for the final and such that we've already covered. The way school policy works is you start off wherever we are at one hundred percent so you won't have to worry about catching up. Though if you have any questions on past material you're more than welcome to ask," Dean's hand lifted to loosen the tie around his collar.

Sam shuffled through the papers for a few moments. "I guess, I did have a question but it's not really related to your class." Sam had trouble meeting the teacher's gaze; it was the kind that Sam felt was looking almost inside him. "Everyone... seems sad... I heard someone talking earlier. What happened here?" He glanced up at Mr. Johnson from under his bangs.

Sighing softly, Dean settled back in his chair and reached down to pull up a brown bag, looking up at Sam, "do you mind?" He held up the bag and waited for Sam to shake his head before opening it and pulling out a sandwich, stalling for time. When he'd finally taken a few bites from the food and a sip from his coke, he answered softly, "Unfortunately a few of the students have passed away in the past few months. This is a fairly small town and most of these students have grown up together. It's a real tragedy, and one I'm sure you'll be hearing a lot about as you get settled in."

"Passed away," Sam's stomach growled and he shifted slightly on his chair, "were they sick?" Confirm everything his Dad had said. Make sure he didn't follow his own assumptions. "I mean, was it something they caught from one another?" Sam eyes moved over the teacher's face, he seemed like a really caring guy.

"Uh, no, not quite," Dean shook his head and sighed softly. "Did you want to eat your lunch here? I don't mind."

"I didn't bring any lunch ... is there a cafeteria?" Sam smiled.

"Of course," Dean nodded and pushed back from his desk and to his feet. "Come on, I'll show you the way," he headed toward the door, tugging it open and stepping back for Sam to go first. "I'm sure it has to be a little overwhelming, coming into a new school in the middle of your senior year. Did your family just move here?"

"Oh I'm used to it, hun ... well, my Dad's job means we move around a lot." Sam slowed his step to match the other man's. It was weird speaking to Mr. Johnson like he was an _elder_. Sam was pretty used to being treated like one of _the men_ when working with other hunters. He'd earned their respect over the years. This teacher didn't look like he was that much older than Sam. "How old are you Mr. Johnson?" Sam grimaced, "I mean," he had to keep reminding himself that he was a high school student, "you look young to be a teacher."

Dean smiled, accustomed to these questions after meeting most of his student's parents at the beginning of the year. "I'm twenty five, so, old enough," he glanced over at Sam, watching him flick hair back from his brow. It seemed to be a pretty common habit of his. But it seemed more like only that, a habit, not the nervous gesture that it could have been. Dean had seen his assortments of teenagers with student teaching and then beginning to work here, but seldom held themselves the way Sam did. It was like he knew there was nothing to fear here, like maybe he knew something about the real hardships of the world and that high school was simply a passing phase. "Have you had the chance to talk to any of your classmates yet?" Dean asked as they turned the corner.

"Nah," Sam shifted his laptop bag to his other shoulder. "I don't make a lot of friends, no point," he shrugged. "I move around too often, and really?" He leaned in closer and smirked, "I'm used to hanging out with my Dad and his friends so high school students don't really interest me." He straightened up and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets.

Dean blinked, a little thrown as the sudden wave of whatever cologne Sam wore washed over him. "Oh," he nodded and gestured to gently swinging doors down the end of the hall. "Well the cafeteria is through there. And feel free to come talk to me if you have any problems or questions," he smiled at Sam, stepping back slightly and nodding before turning and walking away.

-=-=-=-

Sam had spent an hour sitting outside by the school track on the bleachers. He'd read for a while but was mostly just killing time until he thought the school was empty. He checked his watch, four thirty, the janitors might not be in yet, maybe a teacher or two but it would give Sam a chance to look around and see what he could find. He'd invested some extra time in hacking into the local police stations internal website and found some files to read over. It seemed like things, ironically, seemed to be centered on Mr. Johnson's classroom. Sam headed back into the school.

The hallways were deserted even though the door to the track was still open. Listening, Sam couldn't hear anything so he retraced his steps and headed up the hallway to the history classroom.

-=-=-=-

Dean found it much easier to focus on his grading work when he remained in the building, away from the simple distractions and comforts of his apartment. He chewed on the end of his pen as he read over the paper on the top of his desk, eyes slightly narrowed in concentration. Just as he was about to circle a sentence for comment, a small voice said his name. Or at least he thought that was what he heard but when he looked up there was no one there. Frowning slightly, Dean let his eyes slide across the empty classroom before he went back to studying the paper.

Just as his pen was connecting with the surface he heard it again, this time much louder and closer. Dean looked up once more to find himself staring at a girl. Or more precisely, _through_ a girl. "What the-" he gasped in shock and slid back in his chair, eyes widening as he stared at the ghost figure. She moved forward, slipping right through the desk until she stood in front of him.

The noise that fell from his mouth was probably the most girlie sound he'd ever omitted. A scream, ripped right from his throat, completely out of his control. His palms felt cold and damp, clamped around his arms across his chest. His entire body felt like it was washed in something chilly, like he'd just been drenched with a bucket of ice water. The ghost kept moving forward, flickering slightly, body twitching and jerking with each movement.

The yell jolted Sam into action. He headed straight down the hallway at a dead run and skidded into the door to Mr. Johnson's classroom. It took him a fraction of a second to realize he needed to back up to pull the door open and as he did, his free hand was already yanking an iron chain out of his jacket. He threw the door open and was across to the teacher's desk before the sound of the door hitting the wall even sounded. His arm swung up high and brought the chain down through the shimmering apparition; it was as though it split in half and evaporated right before his eyes. The chain hit the floor and Sam dropped to his knees in front of his teacher. As far as ghosts went, Sam was pretty sure this one hadn't intended to kill Mr. Johnson or he'd be dead. The man certainly didn't look well, in fact, Sam wasn't sure he was breathing for a moment until he gasped in a lung full of air.

Slipping his hand around the man's neck Sam tried to calm him, bring him back to reality, "hey, Mr. Johnson. _Fuck_..." Shifting slowly he tugged on the older man's neck to try and make eye-contact. Lowering his voice he smiled, "you in there? What's your first name?" He smiled, rubbing his thumb on his teacher's cheek.

"D-Dean," he stuttered out, blinking rapidly to try and process what the fuck had just happened. "I... good _god_..." he gasped sharply, hand slapping down hard on Sam's shoulder as if that might anchor him to the moment and make everything straighten out once more. "What the... what was... that was..." he shook his head rapidly from side to side. "What _was_ that?"

"You're okay; just keep lookin' at me okay?" Sam shifted back a little, it wasn't usually a good idea to tell people too much of the _truth_ but it was obvious by the look on the man's face that he knew he had seen something not of this world. "It was ... a spirit, what you'd probably think of as a ghost. You feeling alright? We should probably get you something sweet to drink." Sam moved his hand slowly over Dean's cheek. _Dean_.

"I got a..." Dean gestured toward his bag, heart slowly returning to its normal pace only to quicken slightly for a completely different reason. Sam had very warm fingers, if slightly calloused, and they felt pretty damn good on his skin. "Coke. In... oh wait. No I drank..." Dean shook his head slightly and chuckled nervously. "Fuck I think I gotta get out of here," he pursed his lips, too scared to look anywhere but at Sam's face in case the ghost girl was hovering in the background, waiting for him. "Can you drive?" He asked suddenly, eyes fixing on soft and understanding hazel. Apparently Sam had nice fingers and nice eyes, even if they were slightly hidden by shaggy brown hair, which was nice too if he thought about it.

"Yeah." Sam pushed up and leaned over to grab the older man's bag, "you need any of your papers?" He gestured to Dean's desk. It was probably a good idea for them to get out of there anyway. Sam needed to come back alone to deal with this.

Dean glanced down at his desk, pushing up out of the chair only to sway forward slightly. Apparently his legs were still pretty shaky. "Um... yes, those," he reached out and grabbed the stack of papers, clutching them to his chest before turning and heading for the door. God he'd never be able to look at his classroom the same way again.

Sam let his hand settle against the small of Dean's back, just in case he was actually as unstable as he looked. It had been a long time since Sam had been scared of anything but he remembered the first time he saw something supernatural, remembered feeling as though his entire world had been knocked off its axis. "Your car in the side parking lot?" He pushed the door open and pushed Dean gently through the door bending down to pick his own bag up off the floor by the door.

Nodding quickly, Dean turned and headed down the hall, letting Sam follow him to the side door. "Uh here," he offered his keys, swallowing hard. Dean was glad Sam knew how to drive, it seemed pretty unlikely that he'd be able to even _start_ his car at this point. His mind was reeling, still trying to make sense of everything and all he could see when he closed his eyes was cold, see through skin and straggly black hair hanging around thin and brittle shoulders.

Taking the keys Sam steered Dean through the hallway and out to the parking lot. "Which one?" He reached up and rubbed the back of Dean's neck, a little worried about how pale he was.

Dean lifted his hand to point at his dark blue Camero, heading that way. He was certain he'd feel a lot better once they were away from the school building and he had a chance to process the situation.

Moving around to the passenger side, Sam unlocked the door and got Dean settled in the seat. Jogging around the car he slipped behind the wheel and started it up. "Your place? My motel room is a few blocks away..." he glanced over at Dean.

"I'm just down the street, take a left out of the lot," Dean sank back in the seat, eyes falling closed as his head rested against the street. "Right at the light," he added and blew out a slow breath. After a moment his eyes opened once more and he turned to look at Sam. "Motel?"

Sam laughed softly, "long story. I'll tell you everything once I got you settled." He waited for the traffic light then turned. "Just up here?" He nodded up the street.

"Yeah," Dean turned his gaze out the windshield, lifting his hand to point at baby blue apartment buildings. "That one. God I'm glad I didn't walk today," he muttered, head shaking slightly from side to side. Now he had about a million and one questions, the shock giving away to burning curiosity and the need to know _everything_. "Just pick a spot, that's my building there."

Parking in the first spot he saw Sam got Dean out of the car and ushered him toward the building. Handing Dean his keys Sam stepped back from the door. "You okay? I can just walk home from here. I mean, if you want to be by yourself." He looked a little better now, calmer - and Sam wasn't sure about trying to explain everything.

"I..." Dean's eyes skid along the lawn in front of his apartment building, frown tugging down his lips. "Dude what the fuck was that?" He turned to Sam, eyes slightly wide. "She was... _dead_ ," he frowned and pursed his lips. "And I'm pretty sure I... knew her. She seemed so..." sighing softly he gestured toward the building and stepped forward. "I think you owe me some sort of explanation, otherwise my brain might literally explode."

"O... kay, you gonna invite me in then?" Sam smiled. Even scared and confused Dean was a good-looking guy.

Dean chuckled slightly. "What are you a vampire or something, need an invitation?" He turned back to the door for a moment before his shoulders stiffened and he looked back at Sam, "Those... those aren't real are they? Vampires?" Dean couldn't even begin to fathom the idea of something like that being real, but then he'd just seen a ghost and up until twenty minutes ago he would have bet his life on those being imaginary.

"No, not a vampire, just wanna make sure I'm not just forcing myself on you." Sam smiled shyly and stepped forward a little. "S'kinda cold out here we should get you inside." He slipped his hand over Dean's shoulder and pushed the man gently.

"Right," Dean nodded and slipped his key into the lock of the building door, turning it swiftly and tugging it open. The fact that Sam hadn't denied the existence of vampires didn't sit very well with him. He led Sam down the hallway, up a flight of stairs and around the corner to his apartment building. Unlocking the door, he held it open for Sam and went about the familiarity of his usual routine, toeing off his nice shoes and tossing his keys in the bowl on the entrance table. He hung his bag on the rack neck and dropped the loose stack of papers on the table before heading down the short hall to the kitchen. "Coke?" He offered, fidgeting with cabinets to stop the odd racing in his mind.

"Sure," Sam bent over and pulled his boots off, putting them to the side before padding down the hallway after Dean. "Nice place," of course almost any place was nice compared to a motel room. Dean had a lot of books; Sam was drawn almost immediately to the bookshelf that ran the length of the wall. Running his fingers along the spines he walked slowly down the room.

As he walked back into the living room, two cokes in his palms, Dean let his head tilt to the side, watching him. A small smile twitched up the corner of his mouth as he slid forward, watching the books Sam's fingers hesitated on. "We are, all of us, growing volcanoes that approach the hour of their eruption; but how near or distant that is, nobody knows - not even god," Dean reached out and tapped the book beside Sam's fingers. "Nietzsche."

Smiling, Sam caressed the spine of the book gently. "I miss books," he whispered. Shaking his head he blinked a few times and turned to look at Dean, "sorry, I mean ... with moving around. I can't keep very much with me." Eyes moving over Dean's face he shifted his weight. "You feeling okay?"

"Honestly?" Dean rolled his shoulder and crossed to the couch, dropping down and setting both cokes on the table. "I don't know. I'm confused. Not so terrified any more but I keep seeing... _her_ ," he sighed softly and massaged the back of his neck with a slightly shaky hand. "What did you do? To make her go away? I mean... how did you even know how to do that?"

Sighing, Sam moved over and sat down at the opposite end of the couch. "Okay. I'm a hunter. I travel around the country, usually with my Dad and we ... hunt things ... supernatural things that hurt people. I found this case and I'm here to figure it out. Ghosts, spirits, they're usually pissed off about something and that's why they get ... stuck here." Sam leaned forward and picked up his can of coke, popping the tab and taking a few sips. "Iron."

"O... kay," Dean nodded slowly. For the most part he liked to consider himself a pretty logical guy. He'd gotten through life on that logic. Now though, this was clearly beyond him. Pursing his lips and sighing, Dean reached out for his own coke and opened it slowly. "So..." he sipped from the can before turning on the couch slightly to peer at Sam. "Ghosts, spirits, whatever, they're real? And you and your dad, hunt them," he blinked and scratched slowly along his neck. "Damn I feel like I'm losing my mind. What else is real? I mean... all those things in stories... vampires? Werewolves? God the fucking swamp thing?" Dean blew out a quick laugh, draining half his Coke at once.

Sam choked on his soda and started to laugh when he finally recovered. "All the things in the world there might be to worry about and you're worried about the Swamp Thing?" Dipping his head down he smiled warmly. "And, yeah," he glanced up quickly then away, "most of those things are real. Iron and salt will get rid of ghosts and spirits, wooden stakes actually work on vampires. I mean, you read a lot - you've got to wonder where all those myths and legends came from." He looked over at the books again, longing to go over and start flipping through some of them.

"I... well yeah, I guess I did but I mean, I never thought they would exist _now_ ," Dean shook his head. "It's not like Middle Earth is real and yet Tolkien created a whole world there. And I know you're not gonna tell me unicorn's are real because..." Dean glanced up at Sam sharply, belaying the action with his lips curving into a smile. "They _aren't_ right? Why ghosts and spirits and fucking _vampires_ and not things like unicorns and Santa Clause?" He shook his head and slid toward Sam slightly, mind reeling. "God how do you just accept something like this? It's like everything I knew was just... flipped around and inside out."

"Well," Sam leaned back on the couch, "there was this Santa type of thing once... but I probably shouldn't go into it if you want to sleep.” The smile faded from Sam's face and he reached his arm down the back of the couch, fingers resting on Dean's shoulder. "You ... might live your whole life and never see anything like that again. I can deal with this one - I'm pretty sure and then you can just try and ... forget about it?" It didn't ring very true to Sam so he was pretty sure Dean wasn't going to buy it.

"Deal with it?" Dean glanced over at him, eyes slightly wide. "I don't think I can just... _deal_ with it. It's... I'm always going to know there's more out there now. I just..." He pulled in a quick breath and sat back, surprised by the warmth that shot through him as Sam's arm connected with his upper back. "Okay, so I'm just gonna take some time to think about all of that. But now, the ghost at the school... she didn't seem... pissed. I don't know, I didn't feel like she was going to kill me."

"I think if she'd intended that ... you and I wouldn't be having this conversation. You said she looked familiar..." Sam moved his fingers gently on Dean's back trying to soothe the older man. It didn't hurt that Sam was enjoying the feeling of his shirt under his fingertips and the heat radiating through it. He could almost hear his father's voice reminding him to stay focused.

Dean allowed himself a moment to enjoy the feel of strong fingers on his back before reminding himself that this was his _student_ even if it seemed like he wasn't there so much to learn. He'd get to that though. Instead he sifted through his thoughts, pulling up the image of the ghost a little unwillingly. "Amanda..." he said softly, eyes pulling open, head tilting to Sam. "She was... one of my students. She killed herself, three or so months ago. I... _god_ ," he tightened his fingers on his knees, mind blown all over again.

"That's what I thought. I did some research before my Dad dropped me off here." Sam pushed up off the couch and grabbed his bag pulling out a notebook. He flipped to the page where he had listed the names of the dead students. "She was the first one, did you know the others?" Sam sat back down on the couch beside Dean and showed him the notebook. "Were any of the others in your class?"

Thinking for a moment, Dean nodded slowly, "Well, sort of. Katie, the second one, she wasn't in any of my classes but she was a member of the tech club." Looking up at Sam, Dean added, "I supervise that. And Stephanie... she was in the class that you're in." A deep frown tugged across Dean's lips and he shifted on the couch, closer to Sam to look at the notebook. "Am I part of this? Am I... responsible?" He cringed at the thought.

"No ... " Sam frowned, "don't do that, she wasn't trying to hurt you. Obviously she has some sort of connection. I don't know. I can try and figure it out if it's important to you." It was a necessary evil; not always knowing the answers. Sam had learned to live with that a long time ago. Sure, he was curious a lot but he knew how to stop the problem and that was what he was supposed to be doing. Find Amanda's grave, dig up her body and salt and burn. Then move on. _Fuck_. Sam slid his arm up Dean's back and rested it along the man's shoulders. "I can find out what's going on - I could stay a few more days." He turned and looked at Dean's face, "if you need to know I mean."

Turning slightly brought Dean's face within inches of Sam's. He was close enough to see the smooth curves of his face and Dean's heart sped up slightly. "I... yeah. I'd like to know. I can't think of any logical connection she would have with me. She was in one of my classes sure but... I don't think I said more than a few words to her outside of classes. I..." Dean wet his lips and blinked a few times, wondering when his mind would catch up enough to tell him to move. "So you... do this thing all the time? Go to random cities and find ghosts, save the day and move on?"

Smiling slightly Sam nodded, "yeah, I suppose that is what we do." He looked down at the table, the names in the notebook then back up at Dean. Rules, his life was about routine. He slipped his arm back off Dean's shoulders and picked up his coke. "I'll check with my Dad later. I guess I should go back to my motel, if you're okay and all." Sam drank some of his coke, eyes moving back to the books again.

Dean followed Sam's line of sight before pushing off the couch and crossing the apartment, saying over his shoulder, "You could hang out for awhile. I've got papers to grade but you could do a thorough investigation of my books." Returning to the couch with the stack of papers and his shoulder bag, Dean smiled softly at Sam. "I mean, if you wouldn't mind keeping me company. I'm not sure how comfortable I am being alone just yet." He dropped his gaze to the paper, staring at the red line of ink smeared on the page and frowning.

"Okay," Sam pushed up off the couch, shrugged of his jacket and laid it over his bag, "it's alright if I..." he gestured to the books. When Dean nodded he moved over there quickly and slid his finger along a few books then pulled out some titles that looked interesting. Dropping down on the floor he crossed his legs and leaned back against the wall flipping through the first book. "You got a lot of papers to read?" He glanced up at Dean from under his hair.

"Not really, I've finished most of them," Dean flipped open his bag and pulled out the remaining papers. "Then a pop quiz but that'll be easy, just gotta check it against the answer key," he smiled up at Sam before dropping his eyes to the papers once more. They fell into silence for a few minutes while he began to read and Dean found himself marveling at the odd sort of comfort Sam's presence was. Whether that had to do with the fact that Dean didn't have company often - so any presence was comforting - or the fact that it was _Sam_ , Dean didn't know. And he chose not to think about it, for the sake of his sanity. Crushing on students was _not cool_. "How old are you?" Dean asked quite suddenly, eyes lifting to Sam.

"Why?" Sam tilted his head and looked up. There were only a couple of reasons that Dean would ask that. He might be starting to put together the pieces together that Sam hadn't been in school for a while and maybe shouldn't be doing what he was doing - or - he might be a little interested. Shaking his head, amused that he could even manage to believe that a guy like Dean might be interested in him, Sam scratched at his head.

 _Because I'm thinking about your lips in really inappropriate ways_ , Dean thought and looked back down at his papers. Nope, he definitely wasn't going to say something like that. Dean decided he needed to set aside a little personal time to get out there and experience the world some more. "Well, you're sort of a paradox. You look older, wiser than your years, but at the same time you look... young," Dean shrugged. "I'm not going to freak out on your or anything, I was just curious."

There was no chance that Dean was going to actually pursue anything anyway so there was no point in lying, "seventeen, eighteen in May." Lowering his eyes back to the book Sam turned the pages slowly reading the odd passage here and there. "I've been hunting with my Dad my whole life. Stopped going to school regularly when I was fourteen. Most of my time, I'm with guys twice my age," he looked up, "other hunters." He shrugged. "Maybe that's why I seem older." He smoothed his palm down the page.

"I see," Dean nodded, spirits falling slightly. Sam wasn't even eighteen. There was no way anything could happen. Even if he wasn't his student, or pretending to be his student. "Is it lonely?" He asked quietly, head tilting back up to Sam. "Living that kind of life?"

Taking a deep breath Sam looked up again, "you mean with my Dad? Or ..." Did he ever hook up with people? Have friends? Those were things that Sam didn't like to think about. There had been a few guys along the way, hunters but Sam kind of found the whole thing embarrassing. It amounted to some making out, rubbing, things like that when the terror of something they'd seen had gotten to them. Even those encounters were few and far between; John Winchester didn't like working with other hunters. As for friends, Sam had a few e-mail contacts and that was about the extent of it.

"Well, yeah," Dean shrugged, trying to imagine a life that lacked any sort of stability. It was nearly impossible. He'd grown up all his life in the same town, same friends and family nearby. When he left for college it had nearly thrown everything he'd known into chaos. Now he was settled less than an hour from the people he loved most and even then that seemed hard. "Just, not having all the typical things someone might. Friends, girlfriends or... well you know, just what everyone else considers normal," Dean frowned softly and turned his eyes back to the paper on his lap, heart aching softly for the boy.

"Boyfriends," he glanced at Dean trying to gage his reaction, "and my life is normal for me. You don't need to feel sorry for me if that's what's going on." Sam squared his shoulders and let the book fall down into his lap as he looked up at Dean.

Dean tilted his head to the side slightly, small smile on his face. It hadn't even occurred to him that Sam might not be gay, which seemed odd now that he thought about but since the idea of being together was completely ruled out - probably - he wasn't too fazed. Sam's slight defiance was faintly amusing however. "Okay, I won't question you on it," he smiled up at Sam before returning his gaze to his papers. "So, do you have any sort of boyfriend? Or is that nearly impossible with the long distance thing?" He asked, as casually as possible.

"A boyfriend?" Sam looked down again, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks, "no ... no I don't have ... I wouldn't have ... time, I guess. Besides, look at me." Sam ran a hand through his hair. Sometimes he felt one hundred years old and sometimes, he felt very much seventeen.

Studying Sam with a steady gaze, Dean's eyebrows lifted slightly and he nodded, "I know, that's why I asked." He continued to smile softly as he looked back down at his paper, "You'd make any guy a lucky one."

Barking out a laugh Sam pulled his knees up and rested his arms on them. "I'm over six feet tall and too skinny, and..." he ran his hands over the scars on his arms. "Well, anyway, thanks for saying that." He let his head fall back against the wall. "What about you? You married or something? _Girl_ friend?"

Laughing softly, Dean shook his head, "Not married, not legal here." He fixed Sam with his gaze once more. "And no. No _boy_ friend," a slight smirk tugged up his lips as he shifted on the couch.

Nodding, Sam pushed up to his feet and stretched. "Judging by the amount of time you're spending amused by me, I'd say you're feeling better. I should probably get going." He shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered back to the end of the couch.

"Oh," Dean's face fell and he wracked his mind for any excuse for Sam to stay that didn't include something along the lines of _hey you're pretty hot and gay too so let's make out._ Really, Dean thought he had long since passed that adolescent stage of hopeless crushes. Telling himself to knock off all this nonsense - clearly Sam wasn't looking to make any sort of attachments even if it were okay, which it wasn't - Dean set his things to the side and stood as well. "I could give you a ride, back to your motel. If you wanted," he shrugged, watching Sam's movements.

"Kind of defeats the purpose of me bringing you back here in your car." Sam smiled warmly, "it'll be fine. She won't bother you here - usually spirits are attached to a place. Even if she's drawn to you, for some reason, it's the place she died." He sat down on the edge of the couch, "I mean, if that's why ..." he huffed, "seems like you don't want me to go."

"Well, no. I don't really. I don't... have company often," Dean shrugged and considered Sam for a moment before sitting back down. "I know I'm not really... well..." Dean shrugged, losing his train of thought as he stumbled over some explanation of why he wanted Sam to stick around. "I understand, if you'd rather not hang out with some lame older guy who's lived an outrageously boring life in comparison to yours, but if you wanted to stick around that would be... cool?" Dean felt a little inclined to smack his palm into his head. _Cool_? Really? Who said that anymore?

Sam's nose wrinkled a little as he smiled, "uh... okay." He reached down into his bag and pulled out his phone. "For the record," he said as he flipped the phone open, "you're not lame. I'm intrigued." He punched his Dad's number up and sent him a text message letting him know that everything was fine. He didn't want his ass chewed out on the first night.

Dean smiled softly and settled back on the couch, gathering his papers once more. "Intrigued huh? Oh yes, I'm a walking mystery," he chuckled softly and stared at the paper for a moment before looking back at Sam. "Vampires? Really?"

Laughing softly Sam looked up over his phone, "just don't invite them in. _That_ one's easy." Sam grinned and stretched his legs out a little on the couch, "you're not getting your papers graded. Am I distracting you?" _He hoped he was._

"Yes," Dean admitted with a nod and a warm smile. "It's not a bad thing though, these papers," Dean sighed dramatically and laid his hand across it, "awful. It's very hard to teach out of the box when your students have lived their entire life crammed inside one." Another chuckle fell from his lips as he shook his head, "but then, I thought I lived out of that box and come to find out, I was just stuck in a bigger one. Now though... guess that's different."

"Most people only see what they want to see." Sam leaned against the back of the couch, it was warm, comfortable and it didn't smell like a musty Motel room. Sam liked it. "I ... do you think I could have ... something to eat? I mean I didn't eat supper, or I could walk to a store quick. Is there something near here?"

"I'm rude," Dean laughed and set the papers aside once more to push off the couch and head for the kitchen. "Come on, I'm sure I can find something edible in my fridge," he glanced at Sam as he walked passed him, stopping just inside the kitchen to tug open the fridge. He settled on a frozen pizza, popping it easily in the oven and glancing at Sam who had followed him. "I'm assuming you like pizza."

"Who doesn't? That's one of the things I count on to stay consistent." Getting up Sam poked his head around the door way into the kitchen and watched Dean. "You know I haven't lived in a place with a kitchen since I was eleven. I get excited these days if I have a microwave at the motel." He leaned against the door frame and tried to keep his eyes from moving down Dean's body.

"I'm afraid I don't put this kitchen to enough use. I order in more often than not," Dean stepped toward him, smile still present on his lips. "So... I take it, since you know you'll be leaving after the ghost situation is taken care of," Dean flinched slightly at how awful those words sounded. "You’re not going to be doing much actual school work? Is it all just um... Hunt stuff?" Dean's eyes settled on a piece of hair on Sam's shoulder and he reached out to pull it off, fingers grazing softly along the cotton covering his skin.

"Over the years I've covered a lot of stuff at schools here and there." Sam tilted his head slightly watching Dean's hand. "Read a lot of good things about your class, wanted to check it out." He smiled slightly as his eyes traveled up Dean's arm to his face. "It was interesting ... English kind of sucked. Romeo and Juliet? Really? And, yeah, it's pretty much about the hunt." Sam's shoulders fell almost imperceptibly.

Dean nodded and let his fingers slide down to cup along Sam's shoulder, "I saw the book list for English this year, it was a pretty big disappointment. I think I read Romeo and Juliet in middle school." He stepped forward slightly, hip leaning against the wall. "I figured as much, when you said you came here just for the hunt..." he shrugged slightly and let his fingers drag down Sam's arm as his hand dropped.”So you gonna get your GED or something or is that not something you need with the hunting thing?"

"Yeah, it would make sense." His arm was tingling where Dean's fingers had grazed and Sam took a deep breath, "can't count of hunting forever. Sooner or later everyone gets hurt or burns out. My Dad ... well," Sam's eyebrows lifted slightly, "he's on his own mission to find the Holy Grail. Me? I think I'd like to do something else eventually."

"Oh yeah?" Dean brightened slightly at that, "do you any idea what? I noticed your interest in my books... there's lots of things you could do with that." He smiled at Sam and turned slightly, "hey you know I think I have..." he hummed in thought and crossed the room to his desk, opening a few drawers until he found a study book, pulling it out and turning back to Sam. "This is the study guide book for the GED test, and in the back there's a place you can call to find the nearest location to take it in. We got these at a staff meeting a few months ago but I don't think I'll be needing it, if you want to have it on hand," he held it out to Sam, hoping he wasn't coming off as pushy.

It was stupid of Sam to keeping hoping for a bit more than the _teacher_ interested in the _student_. "Yeah, thanks. That's kind of you." Fingers curling around the edges of the book Sam took it over to the couch and sat down.

Wetting his lips with a slow drag of his tongue, Dean nodded and watched Sam for a moment before crossing to the couch and sitting beside him. "You could take my number with you. When you go I mean. Then you could call me if you have any questions or um... if you wanted to talk or something," he shrugged and scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

Sighing, Sam put the book into his bag. "That's okay thanks. I'm sure I can figure it out." He turned on the couch quickly, "you know, ya don't have to keep doing the teacher thing. It's alright. I get it." Sam rubbed his forehead.

Dean's eyes widened slightly as his lips turned down in a frown, "Oh I meant..." He shrugged and pushed up from the couch once more to go check the pizza. _What the hell are you doing Dean?_ He sighed softly, pulling open the oven to peer inside before closing it and stepping back. The list of reasons why he should not even entertain the notion of getting involved with Sam was incredibly long and Dean really needed to center himself on that.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as Dean left the room Sam pushed up off the couch and followed him into the kitchen. "The pizza smells good." He was really hungry; he was going to have to remember to start carrying some granola bars or something in his bag. "I guess, getting involved with students could get you fired huh?" He blushed. _Fuck_. What the hell was wrong with him?

Dean's eyebrows lifted slightly as he turned to consider Sam. The reasons he'd previously been listing in his mind seemed to have vanished and he mentally reached out for them, searching for the stability. "If I were to get involved with a _student_ , yes," he nodded slowly and turned to rest his hip against the counter, considering Sam with slightly puckered lips in thought.

"I figured," Sam reached across his chest and rubbed at his shoulder. He sighed, eyes moving back to that smattering of freckles on Dean's cheeks. "Is it okay if I'm here? For a while I mean?"

Apparently Dean hadn’t layered enough meaning into his sentence, "would you consider yourself my student?" He asked quietly, sliding down the counter slightly to him.

Pressing his lips together Sam dropped his arm back to his side. "No?" He shrugged, even though he felt everything _but_ casual about this. There was just something about Dean that was different. Sam could see why the students like him so much; he wasn't treating Sam like he was a kid, like he didn't know a thing. The fact that he was one of the best looking guys that Sam had ever met, well, _that_ was icing on the cake.

"No," Dean agreed. If he broke down to the basics Sam wasn't really his student. He'd enrolled in school to get rid of a _ghost_ , and he'd be leaving once that was done. And he wasn't really interested in being involved long term it seemed, which Dean couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. He was pretty sure it was bad thing but he'd think about that later. "I don't think I'd really consider you my student," he said softly, fingers sliding along the counter top slowly. Dean was fairly certain if he'd seen Sam on the street he never would have guessed he was only seventeen. Twenty, nineteen at the least. Dean relied on that to make him feel a little better about actually considering allowing something to happen.

"That's good..." Sam rolled his bottom lip under his teeth watching Dean's fingers moving closer. He was pretty sure this wasn't a remarkably good idea; the guy was upset, after all, probably wouldn't do something like this if he hadn't been facing down his own mortality a few hours earlier. It was impossible to stop watching Dean's fingers, sun-kissed skin, the way his tendons moved under the skin on the back of his hand.

Dean watched the trepidation on Sam's face and slid back slightly, "You know... we don't have too... I mean..." Dean shrugged and stepped to the stove when the timer went off. "The last thing I want is to make you feel like you _have_ to," he wet his lips and set the pizza pan on the top of the stove. After a moment he turned back to Sam and smiled, "If you're not interested, or you know, would rather not pursue... I get it." Dean nodded and slid the pizza from the tray to a cutting board.

Frowning Sam leaned back against the counter, "what am I not pursuing? Did I miss something?" When Dean continued slicing the pizza Sam stepped up behind him and slid his hands up the man's back and curled his fingers over his shoulders. The firm back felt good under his palms, soft cotton of his shirt. Running the pads of his fingers along the outline of Dean's collar bone Sam stepped closer, almost pressed against his back. "I didn't even... say anything..."

"Um..." Dean wet his lips and centered in on the warmth soaking through his back. "I have no idea," he chuckled, surprised by the nervousness washing through him. Sam seemed to be hitting him in a spot he couldn't even process right. "Are we both on different pages?" He turned under Sam's touch, a little surprised when he found himself looking right into Sam's eyes, barely inches from him. He kept forgetting that the boy was just about as tall as him.

"Has it gotta be me who ... starts something?" Sam licked his lips; it had been a long time since he was this close to someone who wasn't trying to kill him. "Will that make you feel better?" He tilted his head a little, gaze locked with Dean's.

Chuckling softly, Dean nodded, reaching out to lay his hand on Sam's hipbone, "I think it kind of has to be. Otherwise I'm going to feel like I've talked you into this, or pressured you somehow. I mean... you are... younger. Then..." he shrugged and dipped his head softly, staring down the line of Sam's body.

"Younger..." Sam murmured as he leaned forward rubbing his cheek against Dean's. Brushing his lips along Dean's jaw line Sam let his hands settle on the man's upper arms, squeezing softly. "Not that much younger," he whispered against Dean's ear. Letting himself fall forward he moaned softly as his body pressed up against Deans. Warmth flooded through his body; Dean felt good, strong, and firm. Sam nuzzled into his neck and breathed in the spicy, unfamiliar scent of the older man.

"Not that much..." Dean echoed softly, arms wrapping around Sam's thin body slowly. His fingers massaged slowly along Sam's back, sliding lower as his head fell back slightly, giving Sam more room. "But you..." he murmured, voice deepening as his body responded to the touches, "do you have... any experience with..." he let his fingers graze along the skin above Sam's waist line, teasing under the cotton of his boxers. "Not that we have too..." Dean shook his head slightly, wondering when his brain had stopped functioning properly.

Laughing softly Sam parted his lips and dragged them up the length of Dean's neck. "You're not," he licked a few times at the sensitive skin below Dean's ear, "finishing sentences anymore." Smiling, Sam drew back a little, lips hovering over Dean's. "Can I ..." he blinked slowly, "kiss you?" There were so many alarm bells going off in his head and Sam was quite amazed at his ability to completely ignore them all.

Dean considered the boy - man, he really needed to think of him as a man if he was going to do this - for a moment before sliding one hand to rest on Sam's hip, the other up to cup around his neck. In several quick steps he backed Sam across the kitchen, not stopping until his hips connected with the counter. Then he was dipping forward and slanting his lips over the silky soft curve of Sam's. Heat exploded through him, sparking his lips into instant action as his tongue slid forward to graze along Sam's lower lip. Not even thirty seconds of kissing and Dean already knew he'd _never_ tasted anyone so sweet before.

Sam's knees buckled for a fraction of a second, all his bravado gone as soon as Dean took control of the situation. His lips parted, hands falling back to the edge of the counter, breath puffing out against Dean's mouth. Moaning when Dean's tongue moved silky and hot across his lip, Sam pressed forward drawing it into his mouth with gentle sucking and licking.

Slipping his tongue forward with a gentle moan, Dean slid the hand on Sam's hip down, picking up his leg and pushing him back until his ass slipped back on the counter. Once Dean was certain Sam's ass wasn't going to come crashing forward his fingers traveled up the length of Sam's thigh, cupping the curve of Sam's ass and tugging him forward until their bodies could press flush together. The hand on Sam's neck moved up to thread in his hair, curling and tugging back to give himself more room to explore the inside of Sam's mouth with his tongue.

All the breath left Sam's body in a long, quiet moan - his hands started moving urgently along the sides of Dean's body. Hooking his leg around Dean's he locked them together, arching forward into the other man's body. Gripping Dean's shirt, Sam tugged, pulled, and shifted, wanting to be even closer. Panting softly into the kiss his tongue tangled with Dean's, teasing its way into the other man's mouth. His tongue swept curiously through Dean's mouth, exploring, tasting; it was smooth, wet heat that started Sam trembling with pleasure.

Dean pulled back from the kiss with a gasp, hand sliding through Sam's hair slowly. "Jesus," Dean breathed heavily, lips sliding together in a whisper of a kiss. "You're like..." he panted softly and dipped Sam back slightly, grazing his lips down Sam's jaw line and along his neck. "Fire," he murmured into the skin, grazing his teeth along the sensitive skin. A part of him flashed in warning, telling him he should step back and put some space in between before they rushed into something and ended up taking things too far. A fact of which Dean - mostly - thought was a bad idea. It didn't stop him from sucking just a little harder on Sam's collarbone however.

It was _too_ good, Sam's heart was speeding like he was running. He was startled when his own hips shot forward, rolling against Dean's heat. Throwing his head back, Sam wrapped his arms tight around Dean's neck crushing them together. It was all more than he expected, more than just the heat and warmth of the physical touch. This filled up a gap inside Sam, something he hadn't even really understood before this moment. Ducking his head back down, Sam's lips slid back over Dean's, mouth moving frantically for more. Rocking his hips hard against Dean, he keened softly into Dean's mouth pulling back slightly, "Dean," he whispered against soft lips, "I ... we gotta ..." Struggling hard to pull air into his lungs Sam nuzzled into Dean's short hair.

"Yeah," Dean agreed with a shaky nod. He let his body rest against Sam's, pulling in steady breaths until he felt a little more in control of himself. _Fuck_ the way his heart was churned and circled was enough to make him really question things. This, their first kiss, had been better than any other kiss he'd ever experienced and it shouldn't have been like that. It was actually a little terrifying. Stepping back slightly, hands settling on Sam's hips, Dean smiled and gestured behind him with the tip of his head, "Pizza's gonna get cold." He stepped forward once more to brush their lips together before detaching himself completely. It was definitely the safest idea, even though Sam's kiss swollen lips seemed to be calling to him.

Sam slipped down off the counter and slid along it until he bumped against the fridge. This was a monumentally bad idea. After all, he had no idea who Dean was really. He didn't know if he was the kind of teacher who would end up with a guilty conscience and suddenly feel the need to _make Sam's life better_ ; what if this was pity - he'd obviously been saddened by Sam's explanation of how he lived his life? "I should go," Sam mumbled as he turned and darted out of the kitchen. Snatching his bag off the floor, picking up his jacket he was already stumbling around trying to get his boots on by the time Dean caught up to him. It sucked; he already didn't want to go - which was exactly why he should.

"Wait, what? What just happened?" Dean frowned, looking around in confusion, replaying the last few minutes and trying to determine what he'd done wrong. "Sam? I'm sorry did I... was that not..." He swallowed hard and bit down on his lip, overwhelmed with how sad he was at the very idea of Sam leaving. He definitely didn't want to push his limits though so he stepped back slightly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"I just," Sam tugged his boot on and straightened up, "I'm stupid, _this_ was stupid, I mean a stupid idea." His face was flushed; he felt like crap and that last thing he actually _wanted_ to do was leave. But really, when it came right down to it what was the point in doing something like this? Something that was obviously going to be _good_ , too damn good and then... gone. "I'm ... I'm gonna be gone in a few days - and I can already tell, well, I ..." He reached up and brushed the back of his fingers across Dean's cheek. "You're a _really_ great guy. I mean, a guy like me would be lucky..." Letting his hand fall to his side again he stepped back and hiked his bag up on his shoulder.

Dean considered Sam for a moment, frown still tugging down his lips, "But it would be a stupid idea for you to have any enjoyable moment with me..." He sighed and slid back, cupping a hand around the back of his neck. Dean couldn't shake of the feeling of rejection, that he really wasn't used to, but he knew it wasn't his place to push the boy. _Boy_. Dean turned away and blew out a long breath, "I'm sorry I shouldn't have... pushed you. I..." he rolled his shoulders and gave Sam a brief smile. "At least have some pizza first."

"You didn't push me," Sam sighed, "I'm not twelve. I'm just thinking seriously, that..." he looked up and frowned slightly at the expression on Dean's face "that was probably the best kiss I've ever had and, I ... gotta leave after this." He suddenly realized that made him sound a little pathetic.

Dean chuckled softly, humourlessly, and shook his head, "Yeah, tell me about. Best kiss..." He scrubbed a hand through his hair in slight agitation and stepped toward him. "So... you can stay for awhile... or... call and we could... we could do a long distance thing and..." Dean glanced up and watched the sadness still layered in Sam's gaze. "And none of that would work would it?" His smile was sad and he nodded slowly. "Well... I guess it's... for the best then... if you think..."

"Shit," Sam muttered and leaned against the wall. After a few moments of thinking about all the times his Dad had told him he was impulsive, over-emotional, got attached to people too quickly, he dropped his bag on the floor and bent down to pull his boots off. "Okay..." shrugging out of his jacket he laid it over his bag, "pizza."

Slowly letting his lips turn up in a smile; Dean nodded and headed back to the pizza in the kitchen, "Yeah, pizza." He grinned as he disappeared into the kitchen. That was something at least. After pulling two plates from the cabinet, he piled three pieces each on their plates and came back into the living room, dropping on the couch and offering one to Sam with a raised eyebrow. "Promise I'm not gonna bite," he smiled warmly, holding the plate higher.

Smiling Sam padded over to the couch and took the plate then sat down again. He _was_ starving. Picking up a slice he sniffed it, grinned and took a huge bite. Chewing happily he looked over at the books again, "why so many books," he mumbled around his mouthful of food.

"I collect them," Dean glanced over at the books before turning back to Sam with a faint smile. "When I was six my grandpa gave me an original copy of Gulliver's Travels. He read me the entire thing and... well honestly it freaked me out a little but I was pretty transfixed by the world. I dreamed about it constantly, and I was kind of hooked, from then on," he shrugged and took a bite of his pizza. "I started collecting them, or asking for them, and well..." he gestured to them once more. "It's a hobby. Especially if I can find first editions."

Sam swallowed and looked up a smirk on his face, "scary little people who tie you up? Not real." He laughed softly and took another bite of pizza trying _very_ hard _not_ to notice how even the slightest smile lit up Dean's face. "And teaching? Why?" Leaning back Sam took another bite and pulled the slice back trying to snap a long string of cheese and only succeeding in getting it stuck all over his chin.

Dean grimaced slightly and shrugged, "Well... I never really wanted to do any normal job when I grew up." Dean chewed a few more bites of pizza before considering Sam. "It's kind of lame but I always wanted to be a writer. Everyone told me I couldn't make a living from that though..." he shrugged and wet his lips. "So I chose teaching. Because I don't mind sharing things I'm passionate about. I decided on history because it's easier to teach facts and I can still write in my down time." He smiled slightly at Sam before continuing to eat his pizza.

Sam watched the muscles in Dean's neck move as he chewed. Shaking his head he tore his eyes away and looked down at his pizza. "What kind of stuff do you write?" If he had to guess he would peg Dean as the kind of guy who wrote sort of high brow novels, the kind of stories that Sam would read and then would end up thinking about in the car for days on end.

"This and that," Dean chuckled and shook his head, "it sucks and I doubt I'll ever do anything with it but it feels good to get it out there." He rolled his shoulder in a shrug and continued to munch on his pizza. "Maybe you can tell me about some of your hunts and I can write them, we could split the profits," he laughed and shifted on the couch until his knee rested against Sam's.

"This and that is a cop-out answer," Sam took another bite of pizza and looked down at Dean's knee where it was touching his. It surprised him that one simple touch could spark up _want_ in him. But, it had been a long time, and Dean... _God_. Realizing he had stopped chewing he blinked a few times and swallowed. "So you write... about your life? Other people's lives? Sex?" He grinned and pushed Dean's knee with his before munching on the last of his pizza.

"Life, mine and other people's... things I see... stuff that happened to me," Dean couldn't seem to keep the smile off his face. It was nice, having someone to talk too. It had been far too long since he'd hung out with a person that wasn't school related. "Not sex though," he beamed at Sam and bumped his knee right back. "Pretty sure my ex's wouldn't enjoy that too much."

"How many ex's you have?" Sam pulled his leg up on the couch as he put his plate down on the coffee table. The smiled faded off his face as his leg dragged up Dean's thigh. He swallowed and blew out a breath reminding himself he was there for pizza, his coke, then he'd leave and things would go right back to normal.

"Four," Dean wet his lips, watching Sam's legs for a moment before looking up. "I dated the same guy my junior and senior year of high school. Then the other three over the span of college," he chuckled softly and shook his head, "god I don't know why I keep answering with like, a book of information you probably care nothing about." He reached out, hesitating for a moment before laying his hand on Sam's calf.

"Why would you think I don't care?" Sam tilted his head, entirely too aware of Dean's hand on his leg. _Hell_ he couldn't ignore it if he tried, the warmth of his _damn_ palm was burning right through Sam's jeans and making his skin tingle. "I care," he mumbled fiddling with the seam on his pants.

Dean nodded slowly and set his plate of pizza crust to the side, curling his fingers around his coke and finishing it off. His other hand never left Sam's leg and when he settled back he let his fingers slide further up Sam's jeans, along the inside of his thighs. Dean was pretty sure he was pushing the limits now but he promised himself he'd stop the moment Sam sent off any _no_ vibes. "I care too," he said softly, turning to look at Sam. "I'm not gonna go all, _I'm older and wiser so listen to me_ on you, so you don't have to worry about that. But you know, if you ever want to talk. Or... whatever," he smiled and let his hand settle high enough between Sam's thighs his fingers were squished between denim and his thumb was close enough to brush Sam's zipper if he so chose.

"Remind me to," Sam cleared his throat, "get your number in my phone before I leave." He could feel his cheeks flushing slightly. Dean's fingers were so close to ... _God_. It was feeling about a million different kinds of good and Sam's stomach muscles fluttered a little as he shifted back on the seat and let his legs fall apart. "You're ... uh ... not all that much older than me," Sam's voice was deeper than usual, his breath coming a little faster.

"No, around eight years or so..." Dean chuckled and slid forward, closer to Sam. His hand shifted up, thumb pressing solid into the zipper so there would be little doubt of his presence in Sam's mind. "I think... maturity wise, you're right up there with me though. The things you've seen, the life you've lived, it's made you view the world through different eyes. I can tell," Dean leaned forward, nose brushing beneath Sam's ear. "That's not a bad thing though," he continued, voice a soft murmur as his lips ghosted across the skin. He paused for a moment to suck Sam's ear lobe into his mouth, dragging his teeth over it before asking softly. "Do you want me to stop?" He punctuated the question with the firm press of his thumb into Sam's crotch, rubbing up slowly.

Sam's breath hitched and his hips rocked forward slowly into Dean's touch. "Wh..what?" Sam blinked slowly sliding down a bit on the couch, "no... no I don't want you to stop." A trail of goose bumps had shot down his neck when Dean spoke, the way his breath puffed warm and moist against Sam's ear made him shiver slightly. Of course he didn't _want_ him to stop that's why he'd known he should leave. Right now - Sam should be almost back at the Motel and figuring out what he was going to eat for supper. Instead, he reached out and curled his fingers over Dean's wrist, rubbing small circles with his thumb. "This... isn't pizza..." he smiled, letting his head fall to the side a little.

Dean smiled against Sam's neck and turned his wrist to place his fingers firmly over Sam's hardening cock in his jeans. "Mm no, not pizza," he murmured and sucked softly on the crook of Sam's neck. As his legs fell open a little wider Dean couldn't resist applying even more pressure, rubbing in slow up and down motions along the full length of Sam's cock. Dean moaned softly against the skin, enjoying the fell of Sam's arousal, knowing he was responsible for it, followed by the surprisingly sharp thrill at how _inappropriate_ this was. "Better than pizza," he said through a grin and kissed his way back up Sam's neck, circling across so his chest pressed into Sam's and his lips could reach the other side of the boy's neck.

Hooking his fingers under the hem of Dean's shirt, Sam slid his fingers along it. The feel of Dean's stomach muscles rippling against the back of his fingers sent little shocks of pleasure through his system. Moaning quietly he let his fingers uncurl and glide softly around Dean's side, feeling the muscles in the man's back tensing. He couldn't stop the gentle wave of his hips, forward into Dean's touch then back against the couch - _fuck_ Sam was so hard he was aching and the guy had barely touched him. His other hand slid up the back of the couch then landed on Dean's hair, running it through his fingers, smoothing it down. It was softer than Sam expected and he smiled.

It hadn't necessarily been Dean's plan to basically jump the boy but he was so fucking _gorgeous_ and Dean couldn't be blamed if he couldn't keep his hands to himself. It certainly didn't feel like Sam was protesting. And sure, it probably wasn't the wisest idea to do this, especially with the knowledge that Sam would be leaving in days and they both already seemed far too attached already. But the soft sounds coming from Sam's mouth, the way he arched up into him, even the gentle touch of his fingers on the back of his neck, were all serving to push him along and it really had been far too long since the last time he'd been with someone. "Sam," he murmured and lifted his head up from Sam's neck, shifting on the couch until he could gently push Sam back on the couch, kicking his bag and papers out of the way as one hand worked its way under Sam's shirt, pressing into warm, silky skin.

The weight of Dean's body sent Sam over that line... way past the point of no return. He knew he wasn't walking out the door any time soon and _God_ he wasn't going to be pushing Dean away. Each move of their bodies together, fingers, palms, lips, skin - it didn't matter - it just added fuel to the fire that was already burning in Sam's belly. He turned slowly, dragging his lips along Dean's cheek until their lips touched. Just the briefest brush made Sam's cock swell even more, tight and hard in his jeans. Dragging both his hands down Dean's shirt he rubbed his palms over the man's denim covered ass. Perfect, muscular, tight, Sam was doomed but then he was pretty sure he'd been doomed the moment he saw Dean smile the first time. Letting his tongue dance along the seam of Dean's lips he smiled and shifted down, digging his fingers into the man's firm ass.

Dean moaned softly at the feel of Sam's fingers along his ass and shoved his hand up higher, scooting down just enough to run his lips along the exposed, tan expanse of Sam's chest. There was a surprising amount of curve to the muscles along Sam's abs, almost unfitting for the rest of his gangly appearance, but just the right side of perfect. Dean had this feeling that in a wrestling match between the two, Sam stood a pretty good chance at winning. The idea of being temporarily overpowered by the boy wasn't necessarily a bad one. Moaning once more he tugged sharply at Sam's shirt, lifting him off the couch enough to wiggle the material up until Sam extended his arms and aloud the shirt to be removed. While still balancing up, Dean worked quick fingers along his tie - that he'd only just now realized was still on - and began to unfasten the buttons along his shirt, eager to feel Sam's chest against his own.

Batting Dean's hands out of the way Sam grabbed the tie and pulled him down, crashing their lips together. He thrust his tongue past Dean's lips, sweeping it along the top of his teeth then plunging it deeper. He tasted like pizza, with the underlying sweetness of his soda, and then ... _just Dean_. Fingers suddenly clumsy, somehow Sam managed to loosen the knot on the tie without pulling his lips away from Dean's. Moving on to the buttons on his shirt, he moaned, tugging at them gently until he could push the open shirt off Dean's shoulders and arch up into the warm skin of the man's chest.

Moaning into the kiss, Dean pushed forward, pressing Sam harder down into the couch as his tongue swept along Sam's. _Fuck_ this boy - man - was already better than all those in the past, not that Dean had super long list but he considered himself experienced. No one kissed as eagerly as him, like Sam was pouring all his energy and focus into this one moment. Dean had a feeling he was like this with every moment, every situation was one he poured his whole self into. For a moment his hands slid along Sam's hair then down his body, touching every bit of skin he could reach. "Jesus," he gasped into the kiss, surprisingly a little light headed from the intensity of it all.

"You feel good," Sam murmured then licked his way back into Dean's mouth. His hands moved steadily, over the curves of Dean's body, insistently pulling the older man closer, harder into Sam's lithe form. Shifting his leg sideways he wrapped it over Dean's growling softly as it locked their hips together. He could feel the hard line in Dean's pants, grinding against his and _Jesus_ he could already feel a damp spot in his boxers. It was crazy good. Dean's lips were soft, silky and thick - perfect for kissing and Sam already knew he could be lost kissing this man for hours. Sucking on Dean's bottom lip he smiled, then dragged his teeth across it then pulled back to gaze into Dean's lust-darkened eyes. "Can I ... can I stay? Here...." he licked his lips. "I'll leave early... before anyone sees me..."

"God yes," Dean murmured and brushed his lips along Sam's. He thought about telling him he didn't have to worry about leaving early but he understood there had to be some limits. Otherwise Dean would be telling him to stay for good because _god_ he was fairly certain no one would ever live up to Sam's level now. "I would..." he rocked his hips forward steadily, eyes fluttering as heat shot through him, "Really, like that..." A warm smile tugged at his lips before he dipped down to kiss along the curve of Sam's jaw. Once he reached his ear he let his tongue trace along the lobe, rolling his hips into Sam's as he murmured, "I wanna suck your cock. Is that okay?" Dean basked in the warmth that washed through him as the words left his lips.

Sam's body jolted, hips lifting clear off the sofa. The words were ringing in his ears, sliding down his spine and nearly knocking his senses out. "Y..yes," he stammered, writhing for a few moments as his hot skin skidded against Dean's chest. He bit down hard on Dean's collar bone, running his tongue along the ridge then sucking hard. It amused him momentarily to think of Dean having to try and hide the mark at school. _School_ , the word made Sam thrust up into Dean to shake off the image of the ghost. His cock was full, heavy against his belly and he wanted - oh yeah - he _wanted_. That was about as far as rational thought managed to take him.

Growling softly, Dean pushed Sam up on the couch, giving him more room. After a moment, when he decided this was definitely not going to work, he pushed up and spun Sam back up, letting his legs fall off the couch. Dean shoved the coffee table back before kneeling between Sam's legs on the floor. His eyes trailed along Sam's flushed skin, fingers digging into his denim clad thighs. "I bet you taste so good," he said, voice husky as he leaned forward to suck Sam's nipple hard into his mouth, dragging his teeth along the sensitive bud as his fingers shoved up to begin work on the button at Sam's waist line. Dean could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he pulled Sam's zipper down and let his lips trail lower down Sam's chest.

Gritting his teeth Sam's body bowed up off the couch, his nipple was still throbbing and aching pleasantly by the time Dean's lips were traveling down his chest. His abs tightened, trembling when Dean's cool fingers slipped below the waistband of his jeans. Sam's hands stroked over Dean's hair, the soft strands threading between his fingers. Rocking his hips gently against Dean's body felt so _fucking_ amazing, Sam's only worry was that he would barely get through the kissing before he exploded.

Tugging on Sam's pants, Dean smiled up at Sam as he dragged the denim up and then down the young man's body, shifting back until he could pull his feet from the material. Sam's boxers were tented, his erection clearly evident now that it wasn't confined inside tight jeans. Once more Dean let his fingers massage down into Sam's thighs as he dipped forward, sliding the side of his face along the cotton layer covering Sam's cock. "Ever had one before?" Dean asked curiously, dragging his lips along the hard length, letting spit soak into the material.

Sam slid his hands over Dean's where the rested on his thighs, threading their fingers together. He nearly crawled out of his skin when the moist heat from Dean's mouth soaked through to the sensitive flesh of his shaft. "Not... no..." he was going to lie - but then he realized Dean wouldn't be on his damn _knees_ in front of Sam if he had any lingering doubts about their age difference. Sam's experience was limited to some messy kissing with a couple of young hunters they ran into from time to time, rough hands down his jeans and a lot of quiet noises. This was different, better, _God_. The feel of Dean's mouth made Sam's hips twitch. He tightened his hold on Dean's hands momentarily then let go and slid his hands over Dean's shoulders.

Pushing up, Dean slid up the length of Sam's body and let their lips slant together. He kissed Sam with slow, gentle movements, tongue sliding in and circling lazily. As he pulled back he dragged Sam's bottom lip out with his teeth and murmured softly, "then I'll be sure to make it memorable." He smiled at Sam before dipping down once more and kissing his way back down Sam's chest. Dean took his time learning the skin stretching across Sam's abs before hooking his fingers in Sam's boxers, tugging the elastic up and sliding the cotton down his body. Dean wet his lips in anticipation as he scooted back enough to pull the boxers off from around Sam's ankles.

Shifting his hips, settling on the couch, Sam suddenly felt a little exposed. Rolling his bottom lip under his teeth he bit down. Dean's eyes were dark, his pupils wide in glassy eyes. Sam slid his arm half across his cock, self-conscious. Dean was gorgeous. His cheeks were ruddy, red lips swollen and glistening - _Jesus_ even his eyelashes were long and dark. The man's chest was broad with just the right amount of muscle. Golden brown skin covered every inch of Dean that Sam could see. In comparison, Sam felt pale and thin. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth and closed his eyes.

"Don't be shy," Dean said softly and shifted forward, placing small kisses along the inside of Sam's knees and sliding up. "You're gorgeous," he murmured, fingers ghosting along the skin. "All lines and skin, so smooth..." he trailed off as his lips brushed along the curls around the base of Sam's cock. "Definitely nothing to hide," Dean insisted and let the side of his face drag along Sam's hard flesh. Taking a moment to control his pacing, Dean's eyes lifted to Sam and he smiled warmly before curling his fingers around his cock and stroking slowly up before twisting his wrist and gliding back down with a gentle squeeze. He punctuated the second stroke by leaning forward and letting the flat of his tongue circle around the crown.

Sam's hand reached for the arm of the chair, fingers curling hard into the padding. All the breath rushed out of his body and it was a few moments before he could suck some air in. His hips rolled up, spine arching, "s..sorry," he murmured then ran his tongue over his lips. Lifting his leg he rubbed it against Dean's body. He didn't even know what do with himself, every part of his body was on fire and his heart was racing around so fast in his chest he could barely think.

Dean didn't bother telling him not to apologize; he simply made the plan to let Sam know that all of this was perfectly okay, no matter how he acted. The taste of Sam exploded across his tongue as he slowly pulled him into his mouth, swirling his tongue around every inch of flesh he pulled in. Dean was a _very_ big fan of blow jobs and he fell back into the groove of giving one easily. He relaxed his jaw easily, sucking Sam in slowly until he could feel him along the full length of his tongue. Dean curled his fingers around Sam's hips, holding him steady into the cushion so he could begin a steady bob of his head, hollowing his cheeks and barely grazing his teeth along the skin.

Swearing under his breath, Sam gave up trying to hold still figuring Dean would let him know if he did something incredibly wrong. And then he stopped thinking completely. The heat of Dean's mouth was amazing, the best thing he'd ever felt. Teeth, so gently on his cock, set every one of Sam's nerves on edge. _Perfect_. His cock was aching; the heat of Dean's mouth had made him so full, so swollen. Trying to think of anything other than the amazing way that Dean's tongue swirled around him and failing miserably Sam _knew_ he wasn't going to last long.

"It's okay," Dean breathed the words hot along Sam's slick flesh, eyes lifting as he dragged his tongue along the underside of Sam's cock slowly, "to come in my mouth." He stroked his fingers gently up Sam's cock, squeezing softly. "Want you too," he insisted before once more covering Sam's cock with his mouth, sucking him in. Dean could listen to Sam's soft noises for hours, days possibly, and he definitely wouldn't complain about tasting him on his tongue every single day. Shoving those thoughts away before he could dwell on them too much, Dean began a quicker stroke with his hand, sliding up to meet his lips with each movement, pulling the young man closer to his orgasm.

Sam's entire body was vibrating, heat whirling through him. His hand was gripping the arm of the chair so hard his knuckles were white, fingers straining. Bowing up off the couch in a wave, shoulders, chest, hips, Sam moved with each suck, lick, with each whirl of Dean's tongue. His hips snapped up, firmly held by Dean's hands - fingers splayed across his hips. Keening softly Sam rolled his head from side to side. "Dean.." he whispered as the heat overwhelmed him. The tingling in his balls reached an almost fevered pitch, he thrust up, engulfing himself in Dean's wet heat and came. His cock pulsed hard, launching Sam's body forward. His hands curled around Dean's head and neck, pads of his fingers moving over the skin and hair of his _lover_. He could feel the come spurting out of him as his cock throbbed.

Salt and sweet and something distinctly Sam exploded in his mouth and Dean drank down eagerly, sliding his fingers up Sam's body, splaying across his chest. Dean sucked him until sam whimpered and went limp in his mouth. Pulling back slowly, Dean shifted up, pressing a random splattering of kisses along Sam's chest. "You good?" he asked, voice husky as his hand slid around Sam's neck and cupped softly, pressing a small kiss to the edge of Sam's mouth.

Feeling as though every bone in his body was made of liquid, Sam barely managed to roll his head into Dean's kiss. "That ... was ..." Sam swallowed then brushed slick, wet lips across Dean's, "amazing." He focused on breathing for a few long moments, arms snaking around Dean so he could tighten his hold on him. Laughing weakly Sam pulled back so he could see Dean's face, "better than pizza." His eyelids were heavy, lips swollen and his body was still thrumming with excitement.

"Definitely," Dean agreed and let his fingers graze along Sam's jaw line. Something swirled warm and pleasant in his heart and Dean couldn't resist leaning forward to brush their lips together once more. "You make the most amazing noises," he chuckled and pushed back, groaning as he slid his body up off the ground. "Gettin' too old," he laughed and stretched his legs out with a few kicks, cringing slightly when his jeans pressed tightly over his still lingering erection. "Need some water?" He asked, smiling down at Sam and stepping toward the kitchen.

"Wait..." Sam reached out, "where you going?" He blinked up at Dean, a slight smile on his face, fingers curled tight around the man's wrist.

Dean stopped mid step, turning to him with a slight smile. "Well, I didn't know if you'd be comfortable... I didn't want you to feel like you _had_ to you know?" He smiled softly at Sam and stepped into him, side stepping to drop on the couch beside him. "But if you _want_ to by all means I'm not going to stop you," he chuckled, eyes flashing at Sam.

Scooting closer Sam pressed his palm against Dean's crotch. "Feels like I should ... " he shrugged, a pink tinge rising almost instantly to the surface of his cheeks. Leaning closer he ran his tongue along the shell of Dean's ear as his fingers curled around the hard-on confined beneath his jeans.

A soft groan fell from Dean's lips and he moved up into the touch, a little surprised with how eager he was for more. "W-whatever you want," he murmured, head tilting to the side to give Sam more room to explore. Dean was fairly certain Sam could just keep squeezing him like that and he'd come in his jeans like some... well, teenager. He chuckled softly at the thought, the noise trailing off in a moan as Sam's lips moved against his skin.

Sam sucked and licked his way down Dean's neck, loving the salty taste of his skin. He stopped long enough to mark his neck, sucking the sweat-slick flesh hard into his mouth and nipping it after he felt the blood right to the surface. Sitting back he smiled and dragged his tongue over the mark. "Better wear a high collar tomorrow," he murmured.

"Oh I'm sure you'd like that," Dean murmured, arm looping around Sam's back. "Knowing what was just under the collar and that you put it there." He smirked slightly, fingers pressing into Sam's back.

Laughing softly against Dean's ear, Sam left a trail of small kisses down it once more. "I'm _only_ coming to school tomorrow so I can sit in your class." Sam dragged his tongue along Dean's jaw, "I'm gonna make sure I'm hard when I walk in the room." Mouthing his way down Dean's neck Sam moved quickly and slid his leg over Dean's lap and straddled his thighs. He spoke against Dean's lips, "I'm going to sit there in _your_ class and slide my hand up and down my hard-on. Only _you'll_ know what I'm going to do." He rocked forward, sliding his crotch against Dean's, feeling the rough denim on his skin.

"Jesus," Dean gasped, heat flaring through him at the very idea of Sam being like that. His hips moved up, trying to find something to alleviate the pressure building in him. "Might have to, give you detention," Dean mused, words coming out rough, "teach you a lesson..." he grinned slightly at the thought and slid his hand down Sam's back until his fingers could curve along his ass, squeezing roughly.

Sam ran his tongue along Dean's bottom lip, "you gonna think about me spread out on your desk?" Sam grinned and nipped at Dean's lip. Sam had no idea where all these things were coming from, it was like Dean was some sort of drug and Sam was so high he was just lost in the moment. Moaning he leaned forward and crushed his lips into Dean's, moving his mouth slowly, learning the best ways to feel all of the man's lips. It was so _hot_ Sam could feel himself actually getting hard again. Pushing himself back a little he slid down Dean's legs kneeling up to kiss his chest. His lips were aching, raw, and each kiss was better than the last - just the feel of Dean's chest was killing him. Sam caught a nipple between his teeth, tugging hard as he leaned against the bulge in Dean's pants.

A harsh moan left Dean's lips, mental imagery adding to the burn of Sam's lips and teeth along his flesh. If he hadn't been thinking about Sam spread on his desk he certainly was now. "S-sam," he groaned and slipped his fingers easily into Sam's shaggy brown hair. To say every part of him felt like it was on fire would be an understatement. "W-want," he gasped, body arching up into Sam's mouth and touch. He needed flesh on him, needed something to pull him over the edge because he was so close already he felt like one touch would just send him spinning into oblivion.

Sam pulled back, hands braced on Dean's thighs - tilting his head slightly and staring up into those green eyes. Smiling he sat back on his heels and trailed the pads of his fingers back and forth slowly across Dean's belly button. "What do you want?" He leaned down and kissed the dusting of hair above his lover's jeans inhaling the musky scent of him, sliding his hand under Dean's crotch and squeezing gently.

"Touch me," Dean urged, hips moving into the pass of Sam's hand. "Just... god fuckin' _anything_ you tease," Dean smirked slightly, head lifting to peer down at Sam. For being inexperienced the man sure knew how to blow his mind without doing hardly anything. The skin above his jeans was burning from the too brief kisses and he couldn't help rolling his hips down once more.

Dropping his hands to Dean's button Sam undid it, and then dragged the zipper down slowly. Sliding his hands in the opening he pushed the jeans down, "up", he mumbled, and when Dean lifted his hips Sam tugged his jeans down. Sam raised an eyebrow when he noticed Dean wasn't wearing underwear and hummed quietly. He'd _never_ get that out of his mind in class now. Tugging the jeans down he shuffled back and pulled them off Dean's feet then tossed them aside. His eyes moved over Dean's body, strong thighs, weeping cock- red and swollen, and stomach muscles fluttering with the tension of trying to keep control of himself. Sam's mouth fell open and he licked his way up Dean's thigh, pushing his legs wide with his hands. When he reached the top of Dean's leg he nuzzled into his balls, inhaling the musky heavy scent of his arousal and moaning against the hot flesh.

Dean's hips nearly snapped up into Sam's face, barely holding back even if it took all of his control. " _God_ ," he moaned loudly, hand falling down to once more loop through Sam's hair. Dean could feel every graze of Sam's lips over his skin, soaking into him and shooting straight through his body to heighten his arousal. His legs fell open as wide as they could, granting Sam as much access as possible. The heat from Sam's mouth was _so_ close and his mind spun, eyes falling closed as his hips once more shifted up eagerly.

Sam mouthed his way up Dean's cock sucking the skin, licking the ridges and when he reached the head he placed a gentle kiss there. Resting against Dean's thigh Sam lapped at the come beading on the tip of Dean's cock, slipping the very tip of his tongue into the slit then closing his lips over it to suck gently. He tasted good, felt slick in Sam's mouth as he sucked harder. Opening his mouth wider he sucked Dean into his mouth slowly, sinking inch by fiery inch over his lover's cock. Swallowing, Sam moaned when Dean thrust up into his mouth and he swallowed again, muscles working around Dean as he took as much of his cock in as he could. Sliding his lips up and down, Sam sucked and released, swirling his tongue around the head of Dean's cock then pulsing it flat against the underside.

Dean was fairly certain he'd never heard himself moan the way he did as Sam's tongue worked over him. "Fuck," he gasped, trying not to tighten his hold on Sam's mouth and thrust up hard into him the way he wanted to so badly. Dean liked to think he had a pretty good stamina but between their rubbing hips earlier and sucking Sam dry, there was no way he was going to last much longer. And his mind kept giving him imagines of Sam spread eagle on his desk. Shuddering slightly, he tugged on Sam's hair and moaned, "not gonna last..." surprised he could even get the words to form in his mind.

Hollowing his cheeks, Sam sucked Dean as deep as he could, reaching down to cup the man’s balls. He rolled them gently between his fingers. Moaning around Dean's cock he could feel his hips rolling faster, stronger. Working Dean's balls gently, Sam sucked hard as his mouth slid up and down the rigid cock.

Every part of Dean tingled a moment before he felt his muscles tense, body stiffening as his hips shot forward into Sam's mouth with the sudden surge of his release. His fingers tightened in Sam's hair, head falling back as he moaned his lover's name low and throaty. Dean worked his hips forward with each pulse, savouring the heat and pleasure spiralling through him until he collapsed back, gasping in air.

Swallowing, sucking and lapping at every drop of come that shot out of Dean's shaft, Sam moaned. His hips moved slowly against the couch, hands slipping around Dean's body, holding him close. When Dean started to soften Sam pulled off, licking his lips and starting up at Dean from under his lashes. "Was that... okay?" Falling forward he leaned his cheek against Dean's stomach.

Dean muttered something that didn't make much sense and reached down, curving his hands under Sam's arms and tugging him up until he came forward. A small smile pulled at his lips before he brought their mouths together, tongue thrusting forward to gather the taste of himself along Sam's tongue. When he pulled back he grinned and nodded, "More than okay." A blissful sigh fell from his lips as he settled back. "Man... never gonna get my papers graded. I'm gonna make you grade tests," he smirked and brushed their lips together.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled then laughed softly, "no, I take that back, I'm not sorry at all." He blew out a long breath and let Dean take all his weight. He was happy, aching, warm ... but happy.

Dean smiled and dragged his hands through Sam's hair. "No, I'm not sorry either."


	3. Chapter 3

The evening passed too quickly for Sam. He lay across Dean for as long as the man would let him. They talked softly, just little things. Asking each other questions, learning a little, just enough for Sam to regret that it was all going to come to an end far too soon. Once they'd sorted out their clothes and gotten dressed Dean went back to grading papers. Sam started out across the room flipping through Dean's books, then he moved over to sit on the couch and do some research on his laptop. By the time Dean finished working on his papers Sam had fallen asleep beside him on the couch, head tucked under Dean's arm. Somehow, Dean managed to get Sam awake long enough to guide him down the hall to the bedroom and soon they were nestled in bed, wrapped around each other, Sam snoring softly while Dean smiled.

-=-=-=-

Sam woke first in the morning, face damp on Dean's warm chest. Smiling, as he remembered the night before, he shifted slightly. Dean's arm tightened around him for a moment then fell away as he murmured something in his sleep. It was impossible for Sam not to run his fingers lightly down Dean's chest, impossible not to press a small kiss on his ribs, and nearly impossible for him to slip out of the bed. But, slip out of bed he did.

Sam needed to get back to the Motel and pick up some supplies before he went to the school to set up for a long evening. Smirking as he padded softly out of the bedroom carrying his clothes, Sam remembered his promise to attend Dean's class. He was glad he wouldn't have to wait all day for _that_ one. He spent some time in the kitchen starting up a pot of coffee for Dean, then left a note on the counter that read _see you at school._

Before Dean even opened his eyes he could smell coffee and a warm smile tilted his lips up. He searched out for Sam before remembering that his young lover had said he would leave early. Sighing softly he stretched his arms high above his head, curling his toes down and enjoying the pull and tug of his muscles. Dean felt a million times more relaxed and warm, even if something tugged and nudged at his heart. As he showered and dressed he pointedly ignored that feeling in favour of imagining Sam spread out on his desk.

Sam had left a variety of little marks along his neck and Dean smiled at his reflection as his fingers traced over them, thinking of warm lips and the look of arousal in Sam's eyes. Dean turned away from the mirror before his thoughts could turn too sentimental.

Purposefully choosing one of his tighter shirts, the collar shaping around his neck and secured into place with his tie, Dean couldn't keep the smirk from his face. The smirk faded to a warm smile as his fingers grazed along the note before moving to the coffee Sam had made before leaving. He wondered if he could convince Sam to stay through the weekend so they could enjoy forty eight hours of simply laying in bed together, learning about each other. Resolving to talk to his young lover about the idea, Dean finished gathering up his supplies and hummed softly as he headed out the door and to his car.

For the most part Dean had forgotten the conversation from the night before, the thing that had started him down this wonderful path. Until he pulled up in the school lot, eyes fixed wide on the building in front of him. Sam had done a pretty good job at distracting him but now Dean could easily remember the ghost image of a girl he'd actually _known_. He shivered slightly, eyes drifting over the other cars in the lot before shaking away the unease. As he pulled up his back something heavy dragged across his thigh and he tugged it open, looking inside. A small smile tugged at Dean's lips as his eyes landed on an iron poker Sam must have taken from his own back and put in his. It made getting out of the car and heading inside the building and down the hall to his classroom a lot easier.

-=-=-=-

Sam's day had started so early that by the the time people arrived at school he already had the location of Amanda's grave and a bit of a back-story on her. From what he'd managed to dredge up on the school bulletin boards, facebook and other places - Amanda wasn't a very popular student. She was teased a lot. It made Sam's heart ache a little bit for her, he hated things like that. His whole life, Sam had hated bullying. As a kid he'd experienced a little of it himself but then he'd ended up taller than nearly everyone in his class and suddenly it was no longer a problem. It took him the better part of his morning but he managed to get Amanda's email address and break into her account. She didn't have a lot of friends so there wasn't a lot of email but it was interesting. Amanda was extremely fond of Dean; in fact, she had developed quite a crush on him as the school year progressed. Dean was being himself, welcoming to her, making her feel as though she mattered. She did matter to Dean and that's probably where it all started.

Relief started to replace some of the tension Sam had been feeling earlier. If Amanda was so fond of Dean - that explained why she didn't hurt him. It was still a bit worrisome, a bond like that had proved dangerous already for other students. Sam would have to get to the grave as soon as possible.

Closing his laptop when he heard the sounds of other students arriving, Sam started to smile. Dean's class was first. He knew that his lover would be in the school already and that was more than enough to start his cock swelling. Shifting slightly Sam started to pack everything up, watching as the wave of students started to thin out slowly as people headed into classrooms. Grinning, Sam headed down the hallway to Dean's classroom, watching as other students disappeared through the door. The thought alone of Dean standing at the front of the room, waiting, wondering when Sam was going to walk into the room had made Sam so hard he was already uncomfortable. Pulling his bag across the front of his jeans he curled his fingers around the door knob and opened the door to Dean's classroom.

In his defence, Dean somehow managed to resist the urge to track Sam's movements across the classroom. He was completely aware of him however, from the very moment he pushed the door open, as he walked a little too close to his desk before turning down the aisle and headed to his desk. Dean stared down at the papers on his desk, not seeing anything and taking a moment to get himself under control. Once the final bell rang Dean pursed his lips and pushed up from his chair, moving to the front of the class. "Good morning everyone, go ahead and pull open your books, let’s turn to page 124," he smiled at everyone, eyes flickering across the room before settling on Sam, the corner of his lip twitching slightly.

It wasn't quite as easy to stay still as Sam had thought it might be. Pulling his jacket forward, Sam glanced around the room - none of the other student were paying attention to him but every time Dean's eyes passed over him, he _knew_ what the man was thinking about. Perhaps not obvious to anyone else, Sam watched as Dean's hand returned to his neck, barely touching where the marks were. _Sam's marks_. His eyes dragged over the tight shirt Dean had worn, watching it stretch and move as Dean paced back and forth across the front of the classroom. There was gorgeous pink tinge in Dean's cheeks, like he'd just walked through the wind but Sam knew better. Sliding his hips further forward on his chair, he waited until Dean was looking his way then ran his tongue over his bottom lip as his hand moved slowly down his chest, well hidden by his jacket from anyone's view but Dean's.

Dean was impressed with his ability to continue with his lecture as if the sight of Sam, knowing what he was doing hidden behind that jacket, wasn't enough to blow his freaking mind. It was harder to not keep his eyes on Sam, not wanting to draw attention to the man by giving him unnecessarily long stares. He only vaguely registered the question asked of him, words circling around his brain until they made enough sense to work an answer out of. He asked a question of his class in return, considered calling on Sam just to test the boy's level of concentration but decided against it since hearing his voice was likely to do things to Dean's system and he was having a hard enough time as it was hiding his arousal. After what felt like hours, Dean lifted his eyes to the wall clock, surprisingly distressed with how little time had actually passed since class began.

Slipping his hand through his hair, Sam smiled warmly at Dean. The way he moved across the front of the classroom was driving Sam crazy. He was pretty sure that Dean was making sure that his _ass_ was showing far more in Sam's direction than any other. By halfway through the class Sam was alternating between trying to keep the knowing smile off his face and rubbing his hand over the aching hardness in the front of his jeans. He closed his eyes briefly, images from the night before flashing across his mind. Dean's hands, his swollen lips, the gorgeous colour of his flushed skin; he sighed and wished it was evening already so he could come up with an excuse to go back to Dean's apartment.

"Pop quiz," Dean announced suddenly and turned to the whiteboard, grabbing a marker and starting off a list of questions. "This will be over everything we've discussed since class began today. Let's see how many of you were really paying attention," he smiled at his students over his shoulder before turning back to the board and finishing up the list. "When you've answer them all, turn them in at my desk and begin reading the rest of the chapter." Dean placed the cap back on the marker before striding to his desk, dropping down and barely hiding the sigh of relief, eyes sliding over to Sam before dropping.

Sam didn't even bother looking at the questions; he knew that he had absolutely _no_ idea what Dean had been speaking about throughout the class. It was a really good thing that he wasn't expecting to have good grades at any point during this school term. He'd be screwed. Picking up his pen, Sam yanked a notebook out of his bag and started writing.

 _I was absolutely paying attention. Every move you made across the front of the classroom nearly killed me. All I can think about is the way you felt last night, your skin, the way your lips moved over my body - you wanted me - just me. Like I wanted you... like I want you. When I should be thinking about the job I'm on - I'm sitting here imagining you touching me, hoping like hell you're going to want me to come over later. I want more - and I want it to be you._

Waiting until some other students had handed in their papers, Sam walked up to the front of the class and dropped his notebook on the pile then hurried back to his desk. He was relieved to be back in his seat, smiling, opened his text book and watched Dean over the top of it.

Dean had a pretty good hunch that whatever Sam was going to write wasn't going to be answers to a bull shit pop quiz and a slow smile lifted his lips as his suspicions were confirmed. As the class began reading the rest of the chapter he made quick work of grading their pop quizzes, keeping Sam's notebook in his lap. By the time the bell rang for the end of the class he'd finished up the grading and stood by the door with the stack of notebooks in his arm. He smiled and nodded at his students, handing back their notebooks as they filed in an orderly line to leave. As he'd expected, Sam was lingering at the end of the line and Dean's heart began to quicken slightly as the pile of notebooks disappeared until he was just clutching Sam's, turning to his young lover and letting the door close behind him.

Earlier Dean had made a promise to himself that he wasn't going to let anything happen between them at school. It was _so_ risky and he had a class after this one but Dean couldn't resist reaching out for Sam, pulling him forward and turning him to pin him hard against the door and slant their lips together. He gasped into the kiss, tongue instantly sliding forward into the heat of Sam's mouth.

Sam moaned - it felt like the sound was yanked out of him - the door handle banged into his hip as Dean slammed against him. If Dean wasn't holding him up Sam would have crumpled to the floor. Heat flooded his senses, his aching cock slid back and forth across Dean's hip. Breath hitching, Sam's head fell back against the door and it was all he could do not to come right then.

"God," Dean moaned into the kiss, grinding down into Sam for a moment before pulling back slightly. "We can't..." he murmured, hands coming up to slide through Sam's hair. It shouldn't be considered his fault, Sam was fucking _hot_ and Dean couldn't be blamed for not keeping his hands to himself. "A-after," he insisted even as his hips once more moved forward. "Tonight," Dean finally stepped back, panting softly as he stared at Sam with slightly lust blown eyes.

"T..Tonight ..." Sam cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair before turning quickly to grab the door handle. "I have some things I need to do tonight," he smiled scared to look over his shoulder. "I might be a while."

Dean reached out, curving his fingers briefly around Sam's hipbone. "Anything I can help with?" He asked softly, stepping forward slightly. "Not that I'll be much use but, well, do you have to talk to... I mean... to find out why she's-" Dean chuckled nervously, a little unsure with the worry building in him for Sam's safety.

"I'm going to do a bit more research this afternoon," Sam was distracted and turned back to face Dean. "I, uh," smiling up at Dean he took a deep breath, "yeah, and tonight I want to just come through here again confirm it's Amanda with my own eyes. You want to meet me here? Let me in to the school? Nine p.m.?" He gave Dean his best lost puppy look. Honestly, he didn't need the man's help, it was more a question of wanting his company.

"Sure, I can do that." Dean considered asking what Sam would be doing until then but he didn't say anything. He needed to remain aware of the fact that Sam was used to his life, and used to doing it alone, Dean was lucky to be included in any way at all. "Here," he held up a finger and bent over his desk for a moment before walking swiftly back to Sam and holding out a small piece of paper with his cell number on it. "In case you need it."

He liked the way Dean looked at him. Sam already knew he was going to miss it when it was time to leave. Their fingers brushed as he took the paper and Sam glanced over his shoulder quickly. Seeing they were alone his hand whipped up and grabbed Dean's tie. Yanking him to the side of the door, away from the window he slammed his lips into the older man’s, tongue slipping quickly into the warmth of Dean's mouth. As he pulled back, he flattened Dean's tie against his chest then slipped past him and out the door.

"Jesus..." Dean exhaled slowly, head falling back for a moment before he stepped back toward his desk. Suddenly it didn't seem like this day was _ever_ going to be over and he couldn't remember ever feeling so impatient before.

-=-=-=-

Sam had thought, at first, he would have a horrible time waiting for the evening but once he got back to the Motel room and started his research the time started to pass quickly. He started with the information he could confirm about Amanda; her classes, the fact that she had quite a thing for Dean (yes, that made him grin), her class schedule. It took Sam a while but he did manage to confirm that the other two students had classes with Dean. After a while, and a couple of emails to tech-savvy friends Sam had managed to hack into a blog and get access to someone's Livejournal. There was only one thing that Sam could confirm that all three deceased students had in common and that was a _crush_ on Dean.

The early evening was taken up with dinner and an impromptu nap and when Sam woke and checked his watch he realized it was time to head down to the school. Gathering what he needed; shovel, Zippo, lighter fluid and his iron chain Sam headed out the door. It was a short walk to the school and Sam took back alley's most of the way. There was no point in drawing attention to himself if it was unnecessary. Most of the lights were out in the school when he arrived on the grounds.

Unsure whether Dean would wait for him outside, Sam tried the door nearest Dean's classroom. It was open so he stowed the shovel outside and slipped in through the door. He moved down the dark hallway quietly, listening for signs that anyone might be left in the building. Chain in hand he moved quickly to Dean's classroom - it was where all the bodies had been found - and Sam wanted to try and find Amanda and make sure she was the girl he was looking for. He trusted Dean's identification of her, but his Dad would have expected him to confirm it with his own eyes.

Noticing a slight drop in temperature as he moved into the classroom Sam slowed, alert, casting his eyes around the room. He could sense a presence in the room, the way that all hunters learned to do. It turned out he didn't have to _look_ for Amanda, she was going to find him. Shivering slightly Sam moved further into the classroom, the only sound was the jangling of the chain in his hand. He couldn't see anything, none of the more traditional signs of a spirit. Sam felt his mood darken. He tried to shake it off, figuring it was just the anxiety of being there alone; but it was more than that. Somewhere in his mind, he wondered if he should head back outside, rethink things, but _God_ it seemed like he should just stay there, think about things, figure it out on his own. Looking around the room slowly, Sam shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. _Fuck_ the place was getting to him. It must be the thought of those kids killing themselves; they weren't all that much younger than him really. It could have been him. Sam could be the one who'd be hanging from the ceiling when Dean came into the school. Fear and sadness welled up inside him.

Stumbling slightly, Sam moved over to Dean's desk and sat down hard on the top of it. He scrubbed a hand over his face, still shivering; his head was hurting and _God_ he just wanted it all to be done, finished, over. He should get out of there. Something was wrong. Pushing up off the desk, Sam felt so heavy, so tired... he dropped to his knees half way to the door swallowing back tears of helplessness. _Dean_. He'd said he would meet him there, but maybe he hadn't come because he didn't have the nerve to tell Sam, tell him he didn't want him, wanted him gone out of his life. A sob escaped his throat and he dropped forwards onto his hands, the chain forgotten as it fell out of his grip. He started to wonder if he should just end it, maybe those other students had the right idea - get off the merry-go-round. His heart ached, he just wanted...to die.

-=-=-=-

When Dean pulled up to the school building his nerves flared. The prospect of seeing the ghost version of his old student wasn't exactly appealing to him. He could still see the image pretty clearly when he closed his eyes and that was really enough for him. Pursing his lips, Dean grabbed the iron poker he'd snatched from his bag earlier, climbing out from behind the steering wheel. He'd feel much better having a weapon, even if he hoped he never had to use it. His eyes slid around, searching for Sam. It was a few minutes until nine but Sam seemed like the type of guy to be early.

Heading over to the door, planning on leaning against the wall and waiting, his eyes landed on the slight crack. The door was open, the spring slightly stiff. Dean knew instantly that Sam was already inside, he was the only one who wouldn't have known that you had to physically pull the door closed the rest of the way. Dean's heart sped up as he tugged the door open and slid inside. "Sam?" He called softly, peering down the hall.

As he approached his classroom that same chest tightening, skin prickling cold from the day before began to wash over him. Dean's eyes widened and he hurried forward, tugging the door to his classroom open and stepping inside. Sam lay folded together on the floor, crumbled in on himself. Above him hovered the ghostly girl and Dean's blood literally felt like it was turning to ice in his veins. Snapping into motion, terrified by cries coming from Sam's mouth, Dean lurched forward and swung the iron poker in his hands straight through the head of the ghost. He spun slightly, stumbling from the force of his swing.

"Sam?" Dean dropped instantly by his side, fingers clutching around the iron poker tightly as his free hand slid forward to graze Sam's cheek. "You okay?" His blood already felt a little warmer, skin not near as prickly as before. "Hey, look at me Sam," Dean forced the man's head to turn to him.

"D..Dean?" Sam blinked away tears, struggling to remember what they were doing - why he was there. He looked around the room, wide-eyed, and then his eyes found their way back to Dean's. "Dean..." He was going to meet him at the school; they were trying to find Amanda. Sam flung himself forward into Dean's body, clinging to him and soaking up his warmth. "I'm sorry," he murmured against Dean's ear.

"What? Why are you sorry?" Dean asked in surprised, dropping the iron poker finally in favour of wrapping his arms around Sam. His eyes lifted to scan across the classroom, not sure if Amanda would try to come back or if it were safe for the now. "What happened?"

"I screwed up," Sam was still shivering; it felt like he'd been dunked in freezing cold water. "I wasn't as careful as I should have been." _Distracted_. "God, that was awful." He released his hold on Dean a little, sitting back on his heel, smiling sheepishly. "Fuck," Sam sighed, "I should have..." his expression changed slightly as he thought about what he'd read in the afternoon. The facebook pages, the private journal entries. The more Sam thought about it, the more it made sense. Amanda had a crush on Dean as had the other two students. He'd obviously made differences to their lives, touched them. She hadn't attacked Sam the first time he'd been in the classroom. The connection became crystal clear. "They all ... she had a crush on you - a .. a... schoolgirl thing, teenage..." Sam pushed up off the floor rubbing at his eyes. "The other two - they did as well, I read it earlier in their blogs. It's why she didn't attack me before ... I wasn't a threat before ... but now...." his voice trailed off as he looked up at Dean. "It's the way I feel..." he shrugged. "Well, I guess.. anyway..."

Sitting back on his ass hard, Dean's eyes widened slightly, "She... did this... killed those girls and attacked you... because she had a _crush_ on me?" He blinked a few times, a little shell shocked by the news. In college one of the teachers had gone about how dangerous it could be, being a good looking guy in a high school of hormonally charged students, and Dean wasn't naive. He'd seen the looks some of his students had given him, but he never entertained the idea that any of them would go so far. "Holy shit my mom was right." Looking up at Sam's confused expression; he laughed nervously and shook his head, "she said I should teach elementary school. Less problems."

"Well, I mean, not _her_ \- it's her spirit - she's confused, lost. She probably doesn't even know what she's doing." Sam tilted his head, trying not to be paranoid about their surroundings. "She loved you; I'm guessing this was more than a crush." Shaking his head Sam pushed up from the floor and held out a hand to Dean. "I've got all the confirmation I need, we shoulder get out of here before something goes... wrong."

"Great idea," Dean nodded, taking Sam's hand and snatching up the iron poker as he stood. His eyes slid nervously around the classroom before he pulled Sam to the door. "So what now? I mean... how do we... make her go away?" He felt a twinge of guilt even saying the words but the last thing he needed was a ghost killing kids in his class that might have a crush on him. It was too much to even process properly.

"I'm gonna go dig up her grave, salt her body and burn it." Sam dragged Dean toward the door, anxious to get out of the classroom. "It's something... it's probably something I should do by myself." Digging up graves was hard work but Sam didn't want Dean exposed to something like that, after all, the girl had been his student. "Let's get out of here."

Dean followed Sam out of the classroom, choosing not to speak until they'd safely exited the building and he pulled the door shut behind him. His eyes lifted up to the night sky for a moment before sighing softly, "Man, I can't believe you have to deal with this shit all the time. It's... freaky," he chuckled nervously and reached out to lay his hand on Sam's hipbone. "You feeling okay? I could give you a ride to the uh... place she's buried. If you want."

Sam turned to look at Dean and lifted his hand so rest gently on the man's cheek. "I ... should take care of this myself. Go home, I'll feel better if you're there." Smiling slightly Sam let his hand fall back to his side. "This will all be over soon. I can take care of it tonight."

"Oh, okay," Dean nodded, trying not to let his disappointment show. "Well, here," Dean pulled up his keys and slid one off. "If you feel... well if you want to come by. You can let yourself in," he smiled softly at Sam and held out the key. "Only if you want though. No... pressure or anything," he chuckled softly and shrugged, uncomfortable with his level of nervousness.

Scratching at the side of his neck for a few moments, Sam reached out and took the key. "Don't wait up - this could take me a while... and," he looked down at the key, "I don't know, I might be really gross after - hell - I _will_ be gross." He pressed the key back in Dean's hand. "I'll... I don't know, Dean." Things were starting to weigh heavy on Sam. The case being over meant that he'd be calling his Dad the next day and might be gone in less than twenty-four hours. He had some tough choices to make. "I..." he bent down and picked up the shovel, "I better go." He turned to head off across the parking lot, turned and smiled, "see ya later."

Dean blinked in confusion at Sam's retreating form, eyes turning down to the key in his head. "Okay," he said slowly, frowning as he slipped the key back on the loop and headed toward his car slowly. This Sam was in stark contrast to the one to from this morning and the later part of the night before. But it wasn't like Dean hadn't known from the get go that Sam wasn't going to stick around. He supposed that now that Sam's job was done, he wanted to sever any connections they may have had. Dean felt a little unnerved that he was so affected by the whole thing. Barely even two days and he felt like Sam was always going to leave a mark on his life.

The entire drive home Dean couldn't shake the weird feeling of sadness settling over him, like Sam leaving was going to leave some sort of whole in him. Dean knew he shouldn't be feeling like this, not after such little time, but it was too late for that. As he let himself into his apartment Dean held on to some hope that Sam might change his mind and come by, especially if he was going to be leaving so soon. He settled in on the couch with a new stack of papers to grade, trying not to glance at the clock and consider what Sam was doing. _Digging up a grave, salting and burning bones_. Shuddering slightly at the thought, Dean stared down at the papers, losing the battle against his thoughts until he hadn't even realized sleep had pulled him under. Swirling in dreams of soft lips and silky skin.

I usually took Sam and his Dad about an hour and a half to dig up a grave. It took Sam well over three hours to do it on his own. By the time he had checked the coffin, sprayed lighter fluid on the remains and thrown a flaming piece of paper in the grave he was filthy, sweat-soaked, aching and exhausted. He sat there for a while on the edge of the grave, taking only moments of the time he needed to actually get a little rest. Clambering up to his feet, he grabbed the shovel and lighter and started the walk back to the Motel.

When he got to the Motel all he wanted to do was climb into a hot shower and go to sleep, he unlocked the door, threw his stuff on the floor and stood there. _Fuck_ Letting his head fall back Sam groaned, not the least bit surprise by the fact that he wanted to go over to see Dean. It had been in the back of his mind all night, the fact that he should just move on, make a clean break, and stop this before he was too invested in a relationship that only existed in his mind. It was one night. _Fuck_.


	4. Chapter 4

It took him ten minutes to get to Dean's. Pulling out his phone Sam fumbled through his pockets for the piece of paper with Dean's number on it then punched it into his phone.

Dean woke with a start, papers flying across the floor as he sat up, eyes blinking a few times to knock sleep away. Glancing at the clock he frowned, trying to figure out what had woken him up. It was well after one am. The ringing of his phone sounded from across the room and he stumbled up and over to it, frowning at the unfamiliar number before bringing it to his ear and flipping it on. "Hello?" He asked, voice cracking slightly from sleep.

Sam cleared his throat, "can I still come over?"

"Wh- Sam?" Dean's heart quickened slightly and he smiled, dragging a hand through his ruffled hair. "Of course."

Shrugging even though Dean couldn't see him Sam spoke softly, "Could ya open the door then?"

"You're... oh... yeah," Dean laughed and crossed his apartment quickly, turning the lock and tugging the door open. His eyes slid over Sam's dirt covered clothes and he smiled softly, stepping back so he could come in. "Hey," he flipped his phone off and closed the door behind Sam.

Sam slipped his phone back in his pocket and stepped out of Dean's way. Leaning back against the wall he pulled his boots off trying to keep from getting too much dirt on the floor. Pressing his lips together, Sam gestured at himself and shrugged, "dirty," he said.

Studying him silently for a few moments, Dean nodded, lip quirking up slightly, "I see that." He tried to judge Sam's mood, failed completely and shrugged, "Well luckily I have a shower."

Nodding, Sam shrugged off his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt. Wincing, he stopped and looked at his palms, "blisters." _Great_. His Dad was going to laugh at him. He was so _fucking_ tired. Sam let himself fall back against the wall again.

Making up his mind in a flash, Dean stepped forward and took Sam's hand softly in his, leading him down the hall to the bathroom. "Come on," he said softly, smiling at Sam until they stepped into the bathroom. Not giving Sam a chance to protest, he pushed the shirt off his young lover's shoulders before stepping back and tugging his own shirt off. After a moment he turned, leaning across the bath to flip on the shower, and adjusting the temperature before turning back to Sam. Another smile and he stepped back to Sam, reaching out to undo his button and zipper, pushing the jeans and boxers down for Sam to step out of. "I - is it okay if I shower with you?" He asked softly, rubbing his hand gently along Sam's forearm.

Grinning, Sam could feel himself blushing, "I was kinda hoping you would." He stepped closer, "I'm pretty tired, might, fall over and hurt myself." Stepping into Dean's body he slipped his arms round Dean's neck and held on to him. Dean smelled good, clean, and warm - the faint scent of some cologne he might have worn at some point. Sam could have stayed there forever. Right in that spot.

Dean chuckled warmly and let his hands slide down to work at the fastens on his own pants, slipping out of them easily, "I should have known. Sneaky Sam." A bright grin tugged at his lips as he pulled Sam back to the shower, shoving the curtain back and stepping in. He held out his hand for Sam, helping him into the shower and tugging the curtain closed. "You have to be sore," he murmured, turning his young lover to push him gently under the spray and letting his hands massage up along Sam's arms.

Sam nodded, "all joking aside, I actually am _really_ sore." Sam's hands drifted to Dean's hips, already slippery with water. "Dad usually works with me; three hours of digging, might get muscles." Sam closed his eyes and let his head fall back under the hot water.

"You have muscles," Dean said softly, stepping back enough to admire the long line of Sam's body. "Already most of a six pack," he whispered, trailing his fingers over the skin and wetting his lips. Sam really was fucking gorgeous. His eyes lifted up to the curve of Sam's neck, hand pressing firmly down as he pushed his fingers up along his skin until he could curl them around Sam's neck. The man's skin was starting to glisten with the water, dirt fading away, and Dean stepped forward once more to slide their bodies together.

Sam leaned heavily against Dean's slick body sliding his cheek against Dean's, "you're _too_ perfect," he whispered. Sam's palms were stinging as the water started to wash away the dirt away and he pulled them back, running them down Dean's chest.

"Let me see," he said softly and once more took Sam's palms, feeling the calloused stretch of skin. Turning Sam, he brought the young man's back into his chest, circling his arms around him and holding close as he extended their hands out to the water. Dean rested his chin on Sam's shoulder as his fingers worked in soft circles around his hand, working any remaining dirt from the calloused flesh.

 _God_. Sam had never had a shower with another man and he was already starting to wonder why people _ever_ showered on their own. Tugging one hand free he reached back and curled his fingers over Dean's wet hair, turning him, leaning back so their lips could meet. He was suddenly desperate to feel _alive_ and wanting to wipe away the last three hours, three days.

Moaning softly into the kiss, Dean twisted Sam around once more and pressed him back into the shower wall, bodies resting warm together as his lips slid over Sam's. He let his hands travel down Sam's body, cupping his ass to pull him up slightly so the young man wouldn't have to rely on his own legs. _Holding him up_. Dean smiled into the kiss before snaking his tongue forward and swirling small circles inside Sam's mouth.

Sam loved the way Dean kissed him, like he was tasting something amazing, like he _wanted_ Sam more than anything. It made his heart beat fast and hard, thumping around in his chest. One kiss, one slide of the man's tongue and Sam's cock was swelling, pressing against Dean's. He moaned softly, drawing Dean's tongue deeper, swirling his own tongue against it.

Dean withdrew his tongue, allowing Sam's to slide forward so he could suck on it eagerly. His hands dug into Sam's ass, massaging the firm flesh and rocking their hips together. A loud moan worked its way into their kiss as their cocks slid together, Dean's body jerking forward at the touch. "Sam," he murmured into the kiss, rocking forward for more pressure and heat. Dean didn't think he would ever be satisfied when it came to Sam, he constantly wanted _more_.

Sam slid a hand between them, fingers curling round Dean hard shaft and stroking up slowly. Licking the water off Dean's lips he kissed him softly, "Dean, can we ... go to bed?" Still stroking Dean's cock slowly, teasing, fingers curled gently - he pulled back a little and smiled. "Please?" His hand was aching but he didn't care, he loved the feel of that water running between them, flooding down their chests and over his hand.

Swallowing a few times, Dean nodded and stepped back, wetting his lips and moaning softly as Sam's hand dragged off his flesh. "Y-yeah, I'd - okay," he nodded once more and reached out to turn off the faucet. He pulled the shower curtain back and stepped out, once more offering his hand to Sam with a warm smile, extending forward to grab a towel.

Tugging the towel out of Dean's hands, Sam wrapped it around Dean's shoulders and started rubbing him dry. It was nice and he couldn't help smiling. The bathroom light was bright and Sam's eyes moved over every inch of Dean's body greedily as he tried to commit it all to memory. Rubbing the towel over Dean's hair he grinned then slid the towel down to Dean's ass and squeezed gently, drying his lover's flesh slowly.

Dean grinned at Sam, moaning softly as he rocked back into Sam's touch. Leaning to the side slightly he grabbed another dry towel and let it wrap around Sam's body, drying him off in matching, slow slides. He dragged the towel up to Sam's hair and ruffled playfully, laughing as Sam's head disappeared under the material. "C'mon, I know you're exhausted," he said softly and used the towel to pull Sam toward the bathroom door.

"Not _that_ tired," Sam murmured as he let himself be pulled toward the door. "You know, I'm seventeen I recover quickly." He shook his head to get his hair off his face and shuffled forward.

Catching his lower lip between his teeth, Dean blew out a small breath and let Sam down the hall to his bedroom. "So," he murmured as they entered his room, walking to the nightstand to flip on the lamp there.”What is it you'd like Sam?" Dean turned to him, crossing the room once more and running his hand down his lover’s body. A smirk tugged up his lip as his fingers curled around his cock, stroking himself to bring back the arousal that had dimmed slightly from before. "Anything... in particular?"

Swallowing Sam closed the distance between them quickly. "You mean," he leaned down and mouthed his way along Dean's collar bone, "other than just _you_ in general?" He spoke against the slightly damp flesh and smiled. Lapping the water droplets still on Dean's neck Sam pressed up hard against him, "I want," his breath hitched. He could feel himself blushing, his cock hard and warm caught between them. "M..More."

Dean hummed in pleasure, head falling back as his hand slid around to cup the small of Sam's back, "More," Dean's heart quickened, blood pulsing through his veins faster than he thought possible. "More than a blow job?" He asked softly and nudged Sam's head up to graze their lips together. "I can think of a few things that would fall into that category," he pulled back to peer into Sam's lust blown eyes, "if you're sure it’s what you want." Dean's hand slid down to Sam's ass, squeezing softly to punctuate his words.

Sam nodded silently, licked his lips and shivered. Lifting his hands, Sam cupped Dean's cheeks and sighed. "You," he frowned slightly, "you know I gotta, my Dad's gonna come and pick me up and I gotta go back to work." Sam blew out a breath and let his head fall to the side. Staring into Dean's eyes, Sam felt his heart fall somehow, moving painfully in his chest. "How do I do that?"

"I-" Dean's heart clenched slightly, meeting Sam's suddenly and surprisingly sad eyes. "You could stay? Finish school? We could even enroll you at the other high school so no one knows." Dean knew, even as he said the words that Sam wouldn't agree to them. Why would he give up his whole life after two, three days knowing each other?

Sam shook his head slowly, smiling softly, knowing that Dean knew that wasn't even a possibility. His bottom lip trembled slightly and he leaned in quickly to catch Dean's mouth with his own. The kiss was hard, rough and maybe a little _too_ desperate but Sam was smart enough to realize this was the first time in his life that _hunting_ was going to take something so perfect away from him.

Dean stepped into Sam's body more, pulling him close and letting their lips move together roughly. In a slow movement he backed Sam up to the bed, pushing him down and kneeling between his legs as they slid onto the mattress, never breaking the kiss. He could feel it, the beginnings of a goodbye, and he considered how stupid it would be to let anything more happen outside touches and kisses. If he actually _took_ Sam then he'd forever remember that connection and so would Sam. On the pretty high chance that they would never see, or speak to each other again, Dean wasn't sure he wanted to feel the aftermath. "Maybe we shouldn't,” he murmured against Sam's lips, hand sliding down Sam's side slowly.

The sharp edge of Dean's words cut straight through to Sam's heart. He closed his eyes on the tears that were blurring his vision. "Don't do that,” he whispered leaning up to press their lips together again. His hands moved quickly around Dean's back, his rough palms sliding against his lover's smooth skin. Kissing along Dean's jaw, across his cheek, Sam sucked gently on his earlobe then let go. "Want to," he whispered and licked his way up the shell of Dean's ear.

"I -" Dean gasped softly, feeling his resolve slip away. Dean was a little familiar with heartache, losing a lover when it was the last thing he wanted. This feeling building up in him was similar to that, but the burn was already too sharp. Dean shoved it away, centering his mind on the pleasure. If this was their last night together, he knew he needed to make it last. "Okay," he murmured and let his hand drag along Sam's body beneath him, memorizing the silk of his skin beneath his palm.

Smiling slightly, Sam locked his gaze with Dean's and arched up into him - his body already knew the feel of _Dean_ and he wanted more, closer. Tightening his arms he pulled on Dean until he let his weight press Sam down into the mattress. A jolt of desire slammed into him and he moaned Dean's name as his mouth slid wet and warm along Dean's cheek. "Kiss me," he murmured as his hands moved down the curves of Dean's back to slide over his ass.

Sliding his hand back up into Sam's hair and curling in the damp locks, Dean tugged him back slightly and slanted his mouth over Sam's, dragging his tongue along the bow of his upper lip. Dean moaned into the kiss as he rocked his body against Sam's, jolts of pleasure soaring through him, enough to renew his interest to full desire once more. "Wanna," he breathed into Sam's mouth, tongue slipping in to tangle along Sam's slowly before withdrawing, "fuck you," he gasped softly at the words, rocking forward once more for the delicious slide of skin against skin.

Sam's breath stalled somewhere between in and out, his heart thudding in slow motion. His hips rolled up into Dean's, tongue darting out to sweep across his lover's lips. Dragging his hands back up Dean's body Sam let his head fall back on to the bed and locked his eyes on Dean's. There was almost no green visible; Dean's eyes were just dark pools. He nodded slowly, lips parted as he tried to remember how to breathe.

It occurred to Dean, as he was leaning over to grab lube from the nightstand, that he'd never been with a virgin before. In high school he and his boyfriend had never gone all the way and generally most people who bottomed chose their first partners very carefully. It warmed Dean's heart a little to know that Sam trusted him enough to give that away. "Is it okay that I don't use a condom?" He asked softly, repositioning between Sam's legs. "I'm clean, and I generally do but I want," he flushed slightly, wondering if he'd have to explain that type of connection with Sam and just how important it was to him to have that.

Blinking a few times Sam managed to find his voice, "it's fine if you don't, I mean, I'd rather," he took a deep breath, eyes widening. "I'm -" his voice was thick with emotion and wavered just a little, "I’m a little nervous." Laughing softly he took a few shaky breaths and kept smiling up at Dean. "Just a little.

Dean smiled softly, nodding in understanding, "Don't worry, I promise to be really gentle." He rubbed small circles up Sam's thighs, dipping down to press a kiss to his hipbone. "And if it's too much I'll stop okay?" His eyes slid up to Sam's once more, heart skipping in the oddest way at the look on his face. There was little doubt left in his mind now that loosing Sam was going to _hurt_. Slamming a wall around those thoughts, Dean slid forward to brush his lips along Sam's soft and tender, "okay?"

Biting down on his bottom lip Sam nodded again, not trusting his voice. Lips still tingling from the kiss Sam rolled his hips up gently, loving the way their cocks slid together. Dean's weight was comforting, and more than likely the only thing that as holding Sam down. The way his body was buzzing with pleasure, excitment, the anticipation was driving him insane. Licking his way back into Dean's warm mouth, he nodded, and then laughed quietly. "You make me a little crazy." Thrusting his tongue into Dean's mouth, sweeping it around then pulling back Sam ducked his head down.

"I know the feeling," Dean chuckled softly and began a gentle trail of kisses down Sam's chest, sucking on each nipple in turn before dragging the tip of his tongue along the skin. He wanted to memorize every part of Sam, drink him in, savor this moment. Reaching out, Dean curled his fingers around the bottle of lube and flipped open the cap, twisting the bottle until he could smear cool liquid over his fingers. As his kisses brought him to Sam's hipbones once more he pushed up and let one finger extend, hand dipping low on Sam's body. "Just let me know," he said softly, curling his free hand around Sam's cock to stroke lightly as the tip of his finger circled the clenched entrance, gently prodding forward.”Relax Sam, it'll feel better if you do."

Taking a deep breath Sam reached down, covering Dean's hand with his to tighten their grip on his cock. It was easier than he thought to relax; he tucked his free arm behind his head and watched Dean. He really was gorgeous. Sam liked the man's lips the best; the colour of wine, thick, soft when they were kissing him. Dean's finger was extremely distracting. Distracting in the most _fucking_ amazing way. Before he was even aware of what he was doing Sam was pushing down, _down_ against the pressure. "Dean, do that ... kiss me there again." Sam blushed but _fuck_ that felt good - those silky lips right there on the sensitive flesh covering his hip.

With a small smile Dean nodded and shifted down, pushing his finger forward with more force as his lips slid along the side of Sam's hip. He sucked on the flesh covering the sharp jut of bone, working the skin in his mouth, marking Sam. Dean had never been more proud of his ability to multitask. One hand slid along Sam's cock, matching the pace of his finger gently rocking inside Sam's body. The taste of his young lover's skin along his mouth was exploding across his tongue and Dean moaned softly, body flaring with heat and want. "Like that?" he murmured softly, dragging the flat of his tongue along the line of the bone before kissing his way across, tongue sliding across his balls and stopping to circle slowly.

Sucking in a quick breath Sam arched up off the bed then sank back down. _God_ , Dean was everywhere, his tongue, his hand, his finger _Jesus_. Dean's question registered slowly over the soft sounds of Sam's panting, "y..yes." His hips resumed their rocking motion and every time he sank back down toward the mattress he could feel Dean's finger slide deeper, slick and hot. "S'fuckin'.. amazing." He gasped, made a strangled sort of whimpering sound and his fingers moved up to brush over Dean's hair.

Murmuring nonsensical words into Sam's flesh, Dean slid his finger out to add another. Sam's smell was strong and overwhelming, arousal mixed with the beginning twinge of sweat and a salty mixture all his own. As his second finger pushed forward he buried his nose along the curls and breathed in deep lung fulls, committing it to memory. Once more his lips resumed slow slides along Sam's skin as both fingers began a gentle, circular stretch, fingers curling, searching for that spot that would show Sam just how amazing this really was going to be.

Sam's body writhed as Dean touched him, twisted with each pass of the man's lips, his hips shifted restlessly forward and back. Pushing up off the bed with his shoulders Sam's body jolted suddenly; Dean's fingers swept over something - and it was like white heat shooting through his body. Sam's hand slammed down onto the mattress beside him, fingers grasping on to Dean's hair. He tried to say Dean's name but it came out more like a groan as his body shuddered back down to the mattress.

"Jesus Sam," Dean gasped, a little shocked by Sam's reaction but so utterly turned on it only sent sparks of pleasure rushing through him. Taking his cue that Sam had clearly adjusted to the second finger, Dean pressed the third forward, pushing in a slow and gentle as he could with Sam's constantly rocking hips. He tightened his fingers along Sam's cock, stroking the hard flesh to keep Sam in the moment as his third finger slid all the way in beside the other two.

There was so much going on in Sam's body, he could barely even make sense of the sensations that were washing over him. It was too much one second then not enough the next. He thrust hard, jolting his cock through Dean's grasp and loving the way his smooth palm felt against him. "Dean," he whispered, fingers grazing down Dean's cheek the settling over his own hip. He couldn't stop moving and it was absolute agony not to be able to touch Dean. He moaned leaning up then flopping back down on the bed and thrusting again, "please."

Wetting his lips, Dean released his hold on Sam's cock and slid his body up as much as he could go, arm stretching awkwardly down, fingers still buried in Sam. "Yeah Sam," he breathed and curled his free hand around Sam's neck, dragging his body up until their lips could meet and slide together. "You want me in you now?" He murmured into the kiss, thrusting his tongue forward a moment later before pulling back.

Sam's eyes fluttered open and he smiled, arms snaking over Dean's shoulders. "Yes, Dean," he sighed. Straining up he brushed his lips across Dean's, "yes, I want you inside me," he whispered as their breath mingled together. Sam's fingers dug into Dean's back, his legs shifting wider as he arched up into Dean's warmth. Dean's face was flushed and Sam's heart was racing.

The moment felt suddenly more weighted than Dean expected and he met Sam's eyes, trying to figure out all the pieces to his lover that he knew so little about. Brushing their lips together once more he slid back, fingers falling from Sam and reaching out for the lube once more. Dean's hand shook slightly as he smeared cool liquid over his aching cock, eyes fluttering slightly at the pleasure. Sam was once more on his back, legs spread wide enough for Dean to see _everything_. Sucking in a sharp breath, Dean slid forward, stretching his legs out and angling down, lining himself up before slowly pushing forward. Heat encased him immediately, sucking him forward and Dean moaned, head dropping down as he tried to keep the slide of his hips as slow as possible.

Clenching his teeth, Sam hissed out a breath then panted a few times. His fingers dug into Dean's back _hard_ ,"w..wait," he mumbled nuzzling into Dean's neck and panting through the burn. It was painful and strange and Sam's heart felt like it was going to explode. He sucked in a breath, comforted by the scent of Dean's slightly damp hair. As soon as his body started to relax, everything started to feel good again, better, _God_. Slowly, Sam's body adjusted; he could feel Dean trembling as he tried to be so gentle, _hold himself back_. "S'okay," Sam whispered, "okay."

Listening to the strain in Sam's voice, Dean nodded shakily and once more let himself slip forward. Sam was so _fucking_ tight and Dean had never felt anything like it. Any minute he was certain he was just going to lose it and either fuck Sam so hard into the bed he'd feel it for weeks, or come right then and there. "Fuck Sam," Dean gasped sharply as he finally bottomed out and nearly collapsed on Sam's chest, shoulders shaking slightly from the swell of desire and resisting the urge to get things going. Pushing himself up a little, his eyes sought out Sam’s; needing to make sure he really was okay like he said. "Just,” he swallowed, “say when," he moaned as Sam's muscles clenched around him.

Shifting his hips slightly Sam moaned softly. It felt better than he'd imagined, being so full, the burn was fading away and the pleasure was starting to grow again. Loosening his grip on Dean's back he brought a hand forward and trailed a finger along Dean's lips. "M'fine," he murmured, pleased when the look of concern on Dean's face faded away. " _God_ you're - " Sam stretched forward and pressed his lips against Dean's. The kiss was so tender and sweet and perfect he hoped that Dean would hear all the worlds he couldn't get out of his mouth.

Sighing softly into the kiss Dean let his tongue meet Sam's in gentle glides before he slowly rocked his hips back, testing to make sure Sam was certain. When all he received in return for the actions was a moan he smiled into the kiss and let his hips pull out a little more certain, body rocking forward once more. Dean broke the kiss to push up slightly, hands settling on either side of Sam's body as he began gentle thrusts forward, so slow his thighs began to shake. It was worth it though, feeling the heat build, knowing this thing happening between them was more than just a random fuck. Even if neither said anything out loud about it, this meant _something_ and Dean could feel it around them. Crackling along their skin as it slid together with each movement.

Locking his eyes on Dean's, Sam licked his lips as his hands slipped to Dean's hips and tugged gently. He could feel Dean trembling and, somehow, it melted Sam's heart even more. There were thoughts and feelings racing through Sam's mind and body that he'd been completely unprepared for. Closing his eyes, Sam focused on the moment; the heat of Dean's cock embedded so deep, the gentle roll of the man's hips. The smell of _Dean_ , the smell of _them_. Dean finally moved, thrusting harder and Sam's body jolted into action. He met the thrusts of his lover then shifted quickly and wrapped his long legs around Dean's body. That movement, the way Dean trembled and looked down at him sent wave after wave of desire through Sam.

Dropping to his elbows, Dean slipped his arms under Sam's shoulders, gathering him close so every pull out and thrust in dragged their skin together. Dean was fairly certain he'd never felt so connected to a person as he did with Sam now. " _Sam_ ," he moaned, voice dragging out along the side of Sam's face. Pulling back slightly, he let their eyes lock once more before pulling his hips all the way back and thrusting forward. He could feel the sparks dancing across their skin and Dean could hardly stand the slow, torturous pace any longer. Surging forward he worked their lips together in quick slides before pulling back and starting a faster, rougher pace down into Sam's body.

Every thrust sent Sam's body scraping along the cotton sheets. His eyes slammed shut against the light that flared across his line of sight when Dean angled his cock _just right_. He was a trembling mess as his muscles tightened and released. His aching shaft was trapped between their bodies, twitching each time Dean's skin grazed the heated flesh. Focusing on Dean's mouth - his lips and the damp heat of the kisses, Sam could feel his release building.

Dean dug his fingers into the sheets, pace quickening as pleasure built up in him. The softest whimpers were leaving Sam's mouth and curling over Dean, heightening the entire experience. Dean was rapidly approaching his limit and it began to show in the speed of his thrusts, slamming down hard enough to echo the slap of skin and bone together around them. His lungs clenched, breath coming in short pants as he shifted back to shove a hand roughly between them and curl his fingers around Sam's cock. "Come for me," he grunted, matching his strokes to the quick thrusts of his hips.

Dean's thrust wear bruisingly hard, and Sam matching his movements, arching up off the bed as his muscles tensed. When Dean's finger's slid round the over-sensitive skin of Sam's weeping shaft he growled deep in his chest, his lover's words reverberating through his mind. Hips jolting up off the bed so his cock would slide through Dean's grip Sam threw his head back. His body was one long curve as heat bubbled to the surface, crawling along his skin. Moaning, whispering Dean's name, gasping for air; Sam's body lurched up into Dean's as he came. It was hard, crazier and more overwhelming than anything he'd ever experienced. His grasp tightened again on Dean's back, fingers digging in as his cock pulsed and covered his belly, Dean's hand with thick ropes of come.

The feel of Sam falling apart under him was enough to get Dean's thrusts quickening to an almost blinding pace, body grinding so hard down into Sam he could feel him along every inch of his body. Sam's muscles clenched tightly around him and Dean's hips stuttered to a halt as his orgasm tore through him. Shifting forward he sealed his lips over Sam's, moaning loudly into his mouth and snaking his tongue forward as his release washed through him. Dean's hips continued the gentlest rocking even as his body seemed to melt down into Sam's, lips sliding together slow and oddly tender.

Bringing his hands up to cup Dean's cheeks, Sam gasped into the kiss, thumbs rubbing softly against the flushed skin on his lover's face. Half smiling, his lips moved gently against Dean's, sucking and licking the soft and silken lips. Opening his eyes, Sam pulled back watching as Dean breathed through the last twitches of his body's release. _Gorgeous_. Sam didn't want the connection to end. His hands slid over Dean's shoulders and back down his body, holding him there - keeping them locked together for a few more moments. Eyes still moving over Dean's face, Sam shifted gently beneath his _lover_ , smiled and thrust teasingly upwards one last time.

Chuckling roughly, Dean dropped his head to the side of Sam's neck and worked his arms under Sam, holding him as close as possible. He was shocked at the fear in him, that the minute he pulled free from Sam this moment would be over. "Sam," he murmured into the curve of his lover's neck, blowing out a long, steady breath.

Sam loved the way he could feel Dean's voice rumbling against him. The only problem was he loved it too much. Closing his eyes again, Sam sighed and rubbed his cheek against Dean's hair. He could feel emotion welling up inside him and pressed his lips together, wrapping himself tighter around Dean. "D..Don't wanna go," he whispered gruffly.

"Don't want you too," Dean admitted and groaned softly as he pulled from Sam, settling back on top of his body. He'd move if it seemed like Sam was being smothered. Something stung along his heart and he frowned, lips resting against Sam's neck. "Will you call me?"

"Can I stay here tonight?" Sam murmured against Dean's ear.

Dean sighed softly and nodded, rolling to the side slowly and dragging Sam with him. He knew it was too much to ask for, any hope for this thing between them. "Will you be here when I wake up?" He asked softly, hand stroking through Sam's hair.

"Is that okay?" He curled in against Dean's side and slipped his arm across his lover's waist. "I want to." Sam's heart clenched tighter and he rested his head on Dean's shoulder kicking his way under the covers. He didn't want to get Dean in any kind of trouble - on the off chance that someone might recognize him as a student from the school.

"Yeah, that's okay. I want you to be," Dean murmured and turned his head to the side, snuggling down into the pillow. After a moment he reached behind him to flip off the lamp and snag the towel he'd dropped there. It was still slightly damp from before so Dean brought it between then to wipe the cooling cum from Sam's body. Once he was settled back under the covers once more his arms circled around Sam and he sighed softly. "Night Sam."

"Dean?" Sam's voice was soft and barely above a whisper.

"Hmm?" Dean murmured, hands trailing down Sam's back slowly.

"I..." Sam licked his lips slowly, "if things were different I could," he couldn’t get any more words out so he closed his eyes and kissed Dean's chest. _I could fall in love with you_. Sighing, Sam relaxed onto Dean's chest, fingers moving slowly on the man's stomach.

"I'm sure there are lots of things we could do if things were different," Dean said softly, clenching his eyes shut to fight back the sudden swell of emotion. It was really best to not think about what if's, especially if this really was the end. "I'll always answer if you call."

"Night, Dean."

-=-=-=-

Sam woke later than usual, warm, smiling as soon as he remembered where he was. Dean was curled up against him, hand holding on to his arm, his face peaceful and relaxed as he slept. Smiling, Sam watched him for a while. He watched the way Dean's lips puffed out gently as he exhaled and wondered if he would always remember the way the man looked. The way he felt that morning, he found it hard to believe that he would ever forget a single thing about Dean. Sam leaned down and pressed a very soft kiss to Dean's forehead and then slipped out of bed. He stretched his arms high above his head and his back cracked in a few spots. Scrubbing his hands over his face he padded across the hall into the bathroom and grabbed his boxers off the floor. He'd have to shake the dirt off his jeans later before wearing them in the house.

It was cold in the apartment and Sam rubbed his arms as he moved out into the living room to get his phone out of his jacket pocket. He pulled up his Dad's number then hit send quickly before he could change his mind. The phone rang twice then John Winchester's familiar growl was on the other end of the line. "Sammy."

"Hey, Dad." Sam leaned against the kitchen door frame.

The sound of the Impala reached Sam's ears right before John spoke again. "How's the job? You wrapped it up yet?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose Sam closed his eyes. "Yeah Dad, s'all cleared up."

"You good, Sammy?"

Sam wasn't good at all. "Yeah, great Dad. Went off without a hitch." _Except for the fact that I met the most amazing guy and now I have to leave him._

"Okay, Sam ... uh ...." there was a rustling sound on the line. "I can be there in a few hours. About one." Sam could hear the engine roar louder as John gave it more gas. "I'll pick you up at the Motel, be ready."

"Yes Sir," Sam's stomach did some weird sort of flop making him feel like he was going to throw up. "See you soon."

The line went dead before Sam even thought about saying good-bye. "Fuck," Sam swore quietly and turned to head back up the hallway. Dean was leaning against the wall just up the hallway, eyes locked on his. "Hey."

"What time is he coming?" Dean asked softly, arms folding across his bare chest. His heart felt like it was racing just from laying eyes on Sam and he prayed he was strong enough to handle this new wave of emotions.

"A few hours," Sam's voice broke a little, "one." He took a deep breath and moved closer so he could slip a hand along Dean's arm.

Forcing himself to nod, Dean let his arm extend, hand settling on Sam's hip. "You, you have to go," he said softly, not entirely a question more of a statement. He wet his lips and marveled at how quickly a person could get attached to another.

Sam looked down, jaw tightening for a few moments. "I can't." He tried again, "I can't talk about it." He let his head fall forward so their foreheads rested together. "Can we get back in bed? Warm up? Maybe talk for a while?" Sam turned his head slight and kissed Dean's temple.

With a small smile Dean turned to pull Sam down the hall. He couldn't push Sam any further on the subject of staying, he knew that. It wasn't fair of Dean to ask that of the young man, to give up his life, his father, just because there was definitely _something_ between them. A small sigh left Dean's lips as he slipped back between the sheets, settling on the mattress and watching Sam join him. "Anything in particular you want to talk about?"

Lying on his belly Sam rested his arms on Dean's chest and then laid his head on his arms. Smiling he thought about all the things he would wonder once he walked out the door. "Why me? I bet there have been lots of guys, maybe students who've been interested in you."

"But you're not really my student," Dean said softly and reached up to stroke his fingers through Sam's hair. "Before I found everything out, about you and the ghost, I knew you were attractive but I shut my thoughts off from there. I wouldn't even let myself consider anything more until you came here and told me the truth about things. Plus, you're light years ahead of those kids. They worry about being popular and getting good grades, you're not like that." A small smile tugged up his lips as he ran his fingers down Sam's jaw. "Maturity suits you."

Grinning, Sam moved his arms do he could rest his ear against Dean's chest, listen to his heartbeat. "You think we'll see each other again some time?" He had to roll his bottom lip under his teeth, bite down on it to stop the flood of emotion that made him want to cling to Dean.

"S'up to you I suppose," Dean murmured, fingers sliding through Sam's hair softly. "I'm not going anywhere so I'll be here. If you're ever nearby. I'd... like too. See you again," Dean's throat clenched slightly and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. "So why me? I'm sure you've come across quite a few good looking guys in your time. Any of them could have been your first."

Sam's fingers moved slowly on Dean's chest moving from one freckle to another. "Just felt right?" He shifted slightly and let himself slide off Dean's chest so he could press up against the other man's side. "I liked the way you looked at me, like I wasn't an idiot - you ..." Sam could feel his cheeks get a little warmer, "you looked at me like I was important, you trusted me. You're gorgeous." Now Sam knew he was blushing. "There's something amazing about your eyes, it's like I can see right inside you - like you can't hide anything if I can see them." Laughing softly Sam tilted his chin up, "let me see your eyes and I'll tell you what you're thinking.

Dean wasn't going to lie, the thought of Sam basically reading everything he was feeling was a little unnerving. He always been told he had expressive eyes, followed up by the person never knowing what he was trying to express. Dean had spent years looking for someone who could just _get_ him and the idea that he'd found it in someone who was about to leave him - possibly for good - was a little heart wrenching. Sam was basically the type of person he could see himself falling madly in love with and the idea that he might already be on his way there was terrifying. But he lifted his eyes regardless, meeting Sam's, "Well?" He murmured, hand still curled in Sam's hair.

Sam's brow furrowed as he saw those glassy green eyes. He lifted his hand to Dean's cheek then ran his thumb softly along his lover's bottom lip. 'It's making me really - I hate this too." Sam swallowed hard, his throat tight and dry. "It doesn't seem fair that we have to meet now. I'm not even," Sam sighed. "You understand right? I can't leave my Dad right now - I mean, I'm not even legal - what would I do here?" He let his head fall back down to Dean's chest and his hand curled over Dean's neck.

"Yeah, I understand," Dean nodded, forcing a small smile on his face. "This was an unexpected outcome. I'm sure you never planned on meeting me. I... definitely never planned on you," he sighed softly and tightened his hand in Sam's hair. "Guess that's just the way life works sometimes. But I'll, I'll never forget you," he whispered softly and dropped his eyes down to Sam's arm. That was an understatement to say the least. Sam was probably permanently engraved in his mind.

"You'll forget me." Sam's was thick, rough, like he'd been up all night. Biting down hard on his lip he rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. "You'll meet someone as great as you, someone who's actually old enough to have a _real_ relationship with. A guy with a career, you know, I'm just," he shrugged, "just Sam."

"I like just Sam," Dean said softly and rolled to face him, propping himself up on his elbow. "And I won't forget you. You can't say I will. You don't know how..." he swallowed and rolled his shoulder slightly, hand extending to lie on Sam's chest, "How much you affected me - even after so little a time. I'm glad I met you Sam."

Sam smiled, "sometimes the world just has messed up timing." He glanced at his watch then let his hand fall back to the bed. "I got about an hour," he said softly, "gotta pack and get some clean clothes." His heart was hurting more and more the longer he stayed. Soon, he'd have to get out of there just to have some time to get his shit together before he had to face his father.

Pursing his lips, Dean nodded and rubbed small circles on Sam's chest under his fingers. He wished he could ask for some sort of promise, that he'd hear from Sam again, but he knew it was too much. "I... I'm going to miss you," he whispered and leaned down to brush his lips over Sam's.

Shaking slightly, Sam kissed Dean back with an intensity he wouldn't have through possible a few days before. Rolling to the side he flipped his leg over Dean's and tightened his arm round his waist. They kissed for a long time, slowly, gently, until Sam's chest ached more with every heart beat. "Dean," he said when he finally pulled back, "I think I gotta go." He pulled in a harsh breath as tears welled up in his eyes. "It's just gonna get harder and harder the longer-" he buried his face in Dean's neck; jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

Dean clung to him, holding him tight enough to try and convince himself that he could make Sam stay. A weird feeling of emptiness was already welling up in him and he gasped slightly around the sudden pain, "can you call me? Sometime?" He whispered the words, tight and heavy, eyes clenched closed.

Sam felt the tears on his face and slipped his arm up to wipe them away. "I've got your number," he whispered. Sam pulled back slowly and rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed for a few moments as he tried to calm himself down a little. "I'm gonna get my stuff." Standing, Sam hesitated for a few moments, standing with his back to the bed - then padded quietly down the hall to start retrieving all his clothes. Sam was dressed and by the front door, pulling on his boots when he looked up and saw Dean.

"You can text," Dean said randomly, scratching at the side of his neck. "I mean, if you wanted. To let me know, that you're," Dean sighed softly and dropped his head. "Sorry, I know I can't be making it easier. I'll stop."

Smiling sadly, Sam reached down for the strap of his bag. Once Sam had lifted it to his shoulder and adjusted the strap there was no putting off the inevitable. As messed up and wrong as it felt - he had to leave Dean. _Leave Dean_. He didn't like the feel of those words as they rolled around inside his skull. In three days everything had completely changed. Sam knew that it should be impossible for him to feel the way he did. He was young - this should be a crush, an infatuation at best. None of that rationalization made it hurt any less to stand there knowing he was about to walk out the door.

"Dean." Sam leaned back against the wall, fingers reaching out to tangle with Dean's. "This," Sam swallowed around the rock that was suddenly embedded in his throat, "this is _way_ harder than I thought it would be." It felt like the motel room was about a thousand miles away and he just didn't want to take that first step. "Thank-you," he whispered, leaned forward to press his lips to Dean's cheek. "Bye," his lips moved against Dean's skin.

Tears welled up along the rims of his eyes and Dean nodded slowly, hand sliding along Sam's body. "Bye," he whispered, leaning into him slightly, wishing he could just pull him close and wrap his arms tight around him. But his body felt glued to the spot and his chest ached so badly it nearly burned.

It was hard to breathe. Sam pulled the door open, walked down the hallway and left the building slowly. He hated the sound of the door clicking shut behind him, locking him out.

Stopping at the bottom of the sidewalk Sam rubbed at his eyes. He'd never wanted to turn around and go back to something _someone_ more in his entire life. Frozen on the spot he let his head fall back so he could look up at the grey tinged clouds moving across the sky. Without looking up at Dean's window he finally dragged his feet forward and started the walk back to the motel.

The minute the door closed Dean stepped forward and laid his forehead against it, listening, hoping Sam would change his mind. But minutes ticked by and finally Dean stepped back, wiping at his cheeks and sighing softly. He curled his fingers around his phone and carried it with him to bed, dropping down on the mattress and breathing in deep lung fulls of Sam's remaining smell, praying it never went away.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam was waiting outside the motel when the Impala pulled up. He tossed his bag in the back seat and folded himself into the front seat. "Hey, Dad."

John smiled, a bemused expression on his face. "Thought you'd be pretty pleased with yourself, Sammy." The engine roared to life once more and John merged out onto the main road.

Sam kept his eyes closed and leaned back on the seat. "M'good was a really late night, though. Harder to dig a grave by myself."

Nodding, John growled out his agreement as they left town. By the time Sam was able to open his eyes they were miles away and he was pretty sure something inside him had died.

-=-=-

The first day after he left Dean was the worst. Sam could still feel the dull ache in his ass, the slight bruising on his body shaped liked Dean's fingers. He could still smell Dean's cologne on his own jacket. His Dad said he was _sullen_. Sam said he was _tired_. Sam _knew_ he was heart-broken.

The second day Sam resolved never to get involved with anyone again when he was on a hunt. By the end of the four hundred mile road trip as his head collided with the pillow in yet another shitty motel room Sam decided he was just never getting involved with anyone again. It ached so badly.

The third day involved a lot of research. Sam lost himself in work, hunting down the history of a local farmer and his family. His father headed out for the local pub after nine and Sam began staring at his phone. It wasn't until the clock was well past ten that Sam picked it up and found Dean's number in the contacts. He hit send twice and ended both calls before they even had a change to go through. "Fuck," he shouldn't have kept Dean's number.

He stared at his phone for a few more moments then tossed it on the night stand and tried to sleep.

-=-=-=-

The fourth day Sam and his father awoke to rain. By the time he got to the car Sam was soaked, hair plastered to his damp cheeks.

"God, that's cold rain Sammy." John chuckled.

Sam's lip twitched up in a half smile. Dean would be on his way to school now, maybe in his classroom already. He blinked over at his father as the car pulled off the road soon after they drove from the motel parking lot.

"Gotta get gas, you want anything Sam?"

"Coke," Sam smiled, "please."

As soon as the door closed behind his father Sam pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, called up Dean's number and dialed knowing he would get voicemail.

 _**Hey it's Dean, I'm in a class so leave a message and I'll get back to you.** _

"Dean. It's me. It's Sam. Hi." Sam shifted nervously on the front seat of the car. "Dad's getting gas and I just," Sam paused as he looked out at the raindrops splattering against the windshield, "it's raining and that made me think of you and I wanted to hear your voice. I ..." Sam sighed. "I miss you." He dropped the phone and pushed _end_ then put his phone back in his pocket.

-=-=-=-

Since the moment Sam left Dean had been glued to his phone. It went everywhere with him, even resting on the counter in the bathroom while he showered, curled in his fingers as he slept. The only time he didn't have it with him was when he was teaching, which was why he missed Sam's call. As lunch approached he pulled open the desk to grab the device and his heart nearly exploded out of his chest at the _One Missed Call_ display.

Dean listened to the voice mail five times in a row, enjoying the wash of the Sam's voice over him. After ensuring the message was saved, and the number as well, he stared at his phone, wondering if he should call back. Sam was with his dad and he didn't want him to get in trouble, or to be asked questions he might not want to answer. At the same time he didn't want Sam to think it was a bad thing for him to call because it definitely wasn't. He missed the young man so much it was almost unbearable.

Finally deciding hearing Sam's voice again - even if through a recording - was more important than anything else; Dean dialed Sam's number and brought the phone to his ear. As he'd mostly expected, the voice mail clicked on moments later.

 _**This is Sam, leave a message.** _

"Hey Sam," Dean said softly, feeling like the way he whispered the name said entirely too much about how he was feeling. "I'm glad you called. And that you were thinking of me. I... think about you a lot. Probably too much," he chuckled nervously and leaned back in his seat, glancing out the window, "it's not raining here but it looks like it might. You'll be glad to know that the ghost is gone, so whatever you did worked. Though I'm sure you knew it did. Well, if you want to call again later, after school gets out, I'll be around. I... really miss you. A lot. So, okay well. Bye."

Dean hesitated for a moment before hitting the off button, sighing softly. He was pretty sure that message made him sound a little spastic but it was a step, hopefully. Pulling up his phone, he played Sam's message a few more times until he decided he was acting far too much like a love sick puppy dog and he flipped his phone closed, head dropping on the desk in front of him.

-=-=-=-

It was a long trip to their next hunt. Sam had found a job for them over a state away and John had roused him from bed early in the morning. After a day of sitting in the car, Sam was tired and sore and climbed over the back of the front seat to try and stretch out in the back of the car. But sleep wouldn't come. It was early even though the sun had set and Sam's mind wandered once more to Dean. Smiling, he pulled out his cell phone and started a text message.

 **Sam W:** _I havent had a good sleep since I left u._

 **Dean:** _I know the feeling. Where r u?_

 **Sam W:** _Hell. Middle of Montana. Cold and job is in Oregon. U ok?_

 **Dean:** _Tryin to be. Miss you. It sucks_

 **Sam W:** _Should I ... not message and stuff? would that be easier?_

 **Dean:** _No. Would make it harder. How u?_

 **Sam W:** _sad, heart aches, lonely, feel stupid_

 **Dean:** _stupid? cause your heart aches? I know the feeling_

 **Sam W:** _you think we shouldn't have done anything?_

 **Dean:** _absolutely not. why? do you wish we hadnt?_

 **Sam W:** _yes and no_

 **Dean:** _why yes?_

 **Sam W:** _wouldn't hurt so bad_

 **Dean:** _Im sorry. wish I could do something to make it ok_

 **Sam W:** _make the country smaller? wish i could come see you._

 **Dean:** _me too. miss the taste of you. your smell. maybe sometime?_

 **Sam W:** _we don't get there much. usually south. sorry. should leave you alone._

 **Dean:** _you dont have too. wish you wouldnt_

 **Sam W:** _be safe. think of you lots. bye._

 **Dean:** _Okay. Bye_

-=-=-=-

It seemed pretty certain that Dean wasn't ever going to get over Sam. Every time he thought his heart was starting to sting a little less he'd get another voice mail or text message and all those feelings would come surging back. He knew he could have ignored them, tell Sam to just leave him be, but Dean wanted that a lot less then he wanted the ache to go away. Even if the little spark of hope that flared in him only to be snuffed out just as quickly was often too much for him to handle.

As it always did, time continued to carry on and Dean remained busy with his school work, though now he let himself to be consumed with the work to keep his mind occupied. He hardly noticed the leaves on the trees changing colors as it shifted through fall and straight on to winter. He kept thinking one of these days he'd start feeling a little better about the whole situation, like maybe he would just accept the ache as part of him, but it still managed to shock him in its intensity.

Around a month after Sam's departure, Dean found himself sitting on his couch, staring at his cell phone as he often did. Sometimes he'd glare at it, hoping he could communicate with Sam telepathically to call so he actually hear his voice through something that wasn't the saved voice mail he'd listened to more times than he could count. Other times, like tonight, he flipped through his contacts and dialed Sam's number.

Unsurprisingly the young man didn't answer and Dean's heart clenched slightly as he listened to the message in greeting before it beeped and he was listening to silence. "Sam..." he said softly and sighed. "I'm sorry. I should probably leave you alone. I was just hoping you'd answer. It's okay, I get it though. Anyway. I think you've been gone for about a month now. I guess maybe I should try to get over you though I'm starting to think it's just not gonna happen. Let me know if you'd prefer I stop calling and leaving rambling messages. I'll... yeah. Okay. Miss you. Bye."

Dean tossed his phone on the couch beside him, sighing heavily and settling back on the cushion. Chances were he'd wake up some time in the middle of the night, like usual, and have to drag his stiff and sore body to bed. Seemed to be the life Dean knew now.

-=-=-=-

Shivering, Sam pulled his coat tighter round his chest. It was two am, maybe later; they'd had a long day. The hunt had actually extended over more than twenty-four hours. As usual, John has been asleep moments after his head had hit the pillow. Sam had tossed and turned then finally fallen into a restless sleep only to be awaken hours later terrified, sweating. He hadn't had a nightmare since he was a kid, and never one this bad. He had fumbled in the dark for his jacket and slipped outside to huddle against the front wheel of the car so he could cry without waking his father.

With a shaking hand he pulled his phone out and pulled up Dean's number and hit send.

As usual Dean had fallen asleep with his phone in his hand and he sat up with a start, eyes fluttering rapidly before darting down to the ringing device. _Sam_ flashed across the caller ID and his heart lurched. "H-hello?" He answered, voice rough from sleep. Clearing his throat, he tried again, "Sam? What's the matter?" He knew it couldn't be good if the man was calling him so late and he tried to quell the fear sparking through him. "You okay?"

Sam couldn't say anything, he didn't manage much more than a strangled sound as he swallowed another sob. Holding the phone close to his face he closed his eyes and listened, taking a few deep breaths.

"Hey, its okay, I'm here," Dean said softly, eyes darting to the clock on his night table. It was almost four thirty. "Are you... injured Sam?" He asked nervously, shifting on the bed to straighten himself out.

"N..No," Sam could feel his heart rate slowing down as he listened to Dean's voice. "Can you .. talk to me for a while?" He was shivering so hard he could hardly keep hold of the phone. Pulling his knees up to his chest he leaned his head back against the car.

"Sure, I can do that," Dean said softly and slowly relaxed back onto his pillow. It was much better knowing Sam was at least uninjured. "So, I've been creating the finals to give in a few weeks, before school's up for the semester. It pretty much sucks. I hate making up tests but if I used the ones from the book they'd be stupid," Dean chuckled softly, mentally kicking himself for automatically slipping into school talking mode. "I also went to an antique fair last weekend. I find three new first editions. Cost me a fortune but it was well worth it. I got Jane Eyre, Frankenstein and Dracula. I've been searching for the Dracula one for a long time so it was a major win."

"Vampires," Sam whispered as he could feel some of the tension start to drain from his body, "real. Frankenstein, nope." Closing his eyes he tried to imagine being there with Dean, warm, the smell of his cologne and the clean sheets on his bed. "I miss you."

With a soft sigh Dean rolled over onto his side and let his hand drape across the bed where Sam would have laid, if he were there. "I know. I miss you too," he said softly and fell into silence, listening to Sam breathe for awhile. "It's good to hear your voice. Even if it sounds like you've been having a rough night."

Sam swallowed and rubbed at his forehead. "I dreamed that you needed me and I couldn't get there in time. You, I lost you.” Sam blew out a breath. "We've been awake a long time, I'm over-tired and ... yeah." He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Oh," Dean said softly, fingers curling tighter around the phone as if that would connect him to Sam. "I dream about you a lot. But generally you're coming to my rescue," he sighed softly and stretched. "Vampires," he added, a small smile on his face.

Laughing softly Sam sniffed again. "Just don't invite 'em in remember? Then you don't need me." _Like I need you._

"But what if they catch me on my way home?" Dean asked quietly, heart aching slightly. "Then I'll need you. Or what if I just need you in general?"

"That's okay then." Sam wrapped his jacket tighter around his neck. "I should let you go, I'm sorry for phoning so late."

"It's never too late," Dean answered, voice still quiet. He wasn't completely sure that he was just talking about calling late and the more he thought about the more he knew he meant in general. Pushing the overwhelming sad thoughts away, he sighed softly and asked, "are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah, I," Sam rubbed a fist into his eye, "I'm _so_ tired, Dean. Just _so_ tired of…I'm better. Thank you for listening."

Dean curled his arm across his chest, wishing he could just gather Sam up in his arms and hold him close. "Any time. Will you call me again sometime?"

"I will, night Dean." Sam pushed end on his phone. He didn't want to hear Dean say good-bye again. He'd heard it too many times already.

Keeping his phone pressed against his ear, Dean pursed his lips and pulled in a shaky breath. _Fuck_ he was never going to get over Sam. And he was beginning to think he didn't really want too.

-=-=-=-

Like he normally did, Dean spent the last two weeks of December with his family. There was always a constant bubble and hum of things happening and Dean soaked in the comfortable familiarity of it. His mother and sister were constantly in the kitchen, baking things and chattering away about life. Dean had three nephews and one niece and he spent most of his time playing with them on the floor, enjoying the simpler life. Both his older siblings were married which was kind of a good thing because he kept his parents from pestering him about choosing a life partner. They wanted happiness for him, and he knew that, but Dean didn't really want to get into the Sam issue. It was too much to explain.

Over the past weeks, since Sam's late night phone call, things had slowly shifted between them. Or at least Dean didn't feel like his heart was being ripped out every time they exchanged text messages or he left a voice mail. They'd only actually spoken a few times and the conversations had been too brief, weighted silences expressing too much. Dean had finally adjusted to the ache, accepting it with allowing himself the tiniest flare of hope that he might see Sam again one day. After all the young man wouldn't be seventeen forever. Maybe once he was legal he could break off from his father and make a trip out of his way to visit.

It was wishful thinking and Dean knew it but sometimes it was all that got him through.

On Christmas day it seemed all he could think about was Sam. He wondered what he and his father did on the holiday, if they celebrated it or just let it pass like any other day. As he watched his niece and nephews excitedly open presents he felt mostly sad, thinking that Sam wasn't likely to have ever experienced this type of joy. Dean wished it was something he could share, that he could teach Sam there was more to this life than monsters and _hunting_.

"What's on your mind son?" His dad asked, dropping beside him on the love seat with a caring, concerned smile.

Dean shrugged and twisted the phone in his hand, toying with the different swirl of emotions he seemed to always be shifting through. "I think I might be in love with someone," he said softly, eyes sliding to his dad before settling back on the kids. "It's complicated though."

"Love generally is," the man nodded wisely and patted Dean's leg. "Though more often than not it's the person feeling that way that makes it so complicated. Are you two dating? You haven't mentioned any boys."

"No, well... no I don't think so," Dean shook his head and smiled for his dad's benefit. "He travels a lot. For work. Doesn't really have a permanent place and we had two nights of-" he broke off sharply, catching the flash in his dad's eyes that told Dean he was reaching uncomfortable zones. Dean chuckled and shrugged, "Anyway. It's really, really complicated and I'm thinking it might be a little one sided. Even if he doesn't want it to be. We come from different worlds and I'm not sure either of us can really fit into each other’s. As much as I would like him to."

The warm hand of his dad settled across his shoulder, squeezing softly as he pushed up from the seat, "there's always a way Dean. You just have to be patient sometimes."

Dean watched his dad go, considering his words. It would be easy to gain hope from them but he couldn't allow himself that. Really, his dad couldn't even begin to grasp the true level of _complicated_ this thing between Sam and him was.

Excusing himself from the group, Dean headed up the stairs to the room his parents kept for him, closing the door behind him and turning the lock. Dean considered the phone in his hand for a moment before hitting the first speed dial, hesitating over the call button. Another moment for thought and he was pushing it, bringing the phone to his ear to listen to the ring.

"Merry whatever-you-celebrate, Dean." Sam smiled and rolled over on his bed to stare out the window.

Dean's heart lurched in his chest, surprised to hear Sam's voice. A warm smile tugged at his lips as he slowly walked through the room, "Christmas. And uh... same to you. Do you celebrate anything?" He asked curiously, picking at old nick nacks that littered the surface of his desk.

"We used to, when I was a kid. Dad doesn't celebrate anything anymore. I'm sitting here with a beer, a box of cold pizza and sappy Christmas movies on TV. What you doing?" Sam took a sip of beer.

"Beer huh? You little rebel," Dean teased and dropped down onto his bed. "I'm with my family. The kids are opening presents downstairs. Which, although highly amusing at times, can be a little overwhelming. So I escaped to call you instead. Which seemed much more appealing," Dean blinked a few times at himself, wondering when rambling became part of his nervous habits.

"Lots of family? Do they... do they know about you being gay and all?" Sam put his beer down on the night stand.

Dean chuckled softly, "yeah, I came out my freshman year. Actually I would have struggled a lot more with accepting it if it wasn't for my parents hyper awareness. I think they saw it coming. And um... I have an older sister and brother, both married. Three nephews, one niece. So a decent sized family. It's always crazy on the holidays."

"So you could bring home a guy you were seeing? For the holidays and stuff?" The idea of having a family that consisted of more than one person was foreign to Sam but it made sense. Dean obviously had learned to be the man he was somewhere and it made sense that was with a supportive family around him.

"I think my mother would freak out. I've never brought anyone home before but she's always bugging me about it," Dean chuckled softly and fell back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. "She'd love you. Probably make you eat every single one of her chocolate peanut butter crisps."

"That would be kinda cool." Sam laughed quietly, "I'm sorta backwards when it comes to social stuff though. I suck at it, would probably hide behind you the entire time." Sam fluffed up his pillow and shoved it into a more comfortable spot under his head. "You really okay? You don't usually call me."

It seemed odd, that Sam could pick up on his unease even though hundreds of miles probably separated them, while his family remained so unaware. Well his dad had noticed but that was probably because Dean was looking a little like someone had just run over his puppy or something. "I call you," he said softly in protest and sighed. "I just - I love my family. A lot. But it's hard, to be around all these people so... in _love_ with each other. I've always been a little envious of it. Guess it's just worse this year."

"Why is it worse this year?" Sam had his suspicions; maybe he even hoped he knew the reason.

"Because," Dean's voice lowered, coming out in a faint whisper, "I can't be with the person I love. And it's not fair."

"You love someone?" Sam's voice was rough. Because really, that was just one of those questions that you shouldn't ask unless you _knew_ the answer and he wasn't entirely sure he did.

Rolling his eyes, Dean couldn't help the nervous burst of a laugh that fell from him. "Yeah I kind of do. But," he added hastily, "I don't expect you to - I mean, you don't have to say it or, you know, even if you did and I am shutting up now." Dean clenched his jaw and brought his palm down to smack over his face.

"Kind of?" Sam's nose wrinkled as he thought about it. "That's too bad." He cleared his throat, "I realized a while back that I love someone. Not kind of. I _do_ love him." He held his breath, listening.

"Oh," Dean's heart clenched tightly in his chest and he wet his lips slowly. "I... I do. Love you." It felt oddly natural to say the words and Dean couldn't help smiling softly. "There's no kind of about it. I even told my dad." He chuckled and shook his head, wondering how long it would be until his dad told his mom and consequently the entire family.

"You told your Dad you were in love with a teenager you spent two days with?" Sam grinned and picked up his beer again. He'd thought it would be pretty hard to say, even wondered if Dean would just rebuke him. Now, it seemed like it had been nothing to worry about. Life was so strange that way.

Dean laughed and shook his head even though Sam couldn't see, "oh yeah and I told him I made out with you in my classroom after class. After you'd been rubbing yourself during my lecture." He snorted at the thought. His dad would have spontaneously combusted. "I left it vague. It'll be my mom who hounds me for information but I can handle it."

"Won't they think it's weird that you're... with someone you don't see?" Sam's voice was softer, another one of _those_ questions.

"I'll explain that it's a long distance thing," Dean said quietly, heart thudding quicker in his chest. "So, am I? _With_ you?"

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean, I mean, no, you should," Sam took a long pull on his beer. "There are probably guys there, there _are_ guys there obviously," Sam rolled his eyes. "You shouldn't be tied down, or me, I shouldn't." Sam wiped his mouth, "right?"

Dean pursed his lips and blew out a long breath. "I want to be with you," he whispered and scratched along the side of his face. "You're crazy if you think I've looked even once at anyone else since you left. You're all I think about. So, if it's something you'd like then yeah..."

"I would, wait, I'm confused." Sam laughed because he actually _was_ confused. "I'm trying to say, yes, I'd like to be with you. Just wanna make sure I'm agreeing to the right thing."

"Okay good," Dean joined in the laughter, trailing off as the sound of cheering came from downstairs. "One my nephews got a new video game thing. He must have just opened it because I heard a loud noise. Either that or a bomb went off. There's a real possibility either way."

"And you expect me to go there for Christmas next year?" Sam's smiled faded a little as he realized what he'd said. "I didn't..."

"I hope you will," Dean said, enjoying the buzz of happiness building in him at the thought. "Though hopefully you can meet them before then. Like Thanksgiving or something. My mom makes a mean apple pie." The hope flaring in Dean was nearly tangible and if it wouldn't freak Sam out so much, he might have actually shouted in excitement.

"Well, we'll see." Sam was smiling more since he'd picked up the phone than he'd smiled in the past month. "Guess you should go back to the family fun huh?"

"Probably, before they send out the dogs," Dean sighed softly, eyes fluttering closed. "I miss you Sam."

"I miss you too, a lot. Tell them your boyfriend says hi?" Sam closed his eyes and snuggled down into his pillow.

Dean's smile spread wide across his lips as he sat up, "Yeah. I'll try to get a picture of my mom's crazy ass grin. I should make you talk to her just for fun." He chuckled as he headed toward the door, laying his forehead on the wood. "Call me soon?"

"I will, promise. Bye Dean."

"Bye Sam," Dean whispered softly before dropping his arm and letting his finger slide along the end button. He felt a lot more confident about the idea of rejoining his family now, even if he was likely in for quite the conversation.

"Who were you talking to honey?" His mom asked the moment he appeared in the door to the living room. Judging from the knowing looks of his family member's faces, Dean's dad had apparently spilled the beans about his impromptu conversation earlier.

Dean smiled softly and slipped his phone into his pocket, "My boyfriend. He says hi by the way."

As he'd expected his mom squealed, right along with his sister and sister-in-law, who had been a member of the family long enough to know how rare it was for Dean to refer to someone as a boyfriend. In fact he hadn't used the term since high school when he was too young to really to get the implications of living in a gay world. Of course in college he'd dated a few guys but when he'd been looking for an exclusive relationship, they were much more prone to Dean becoming more of a consistent fuck while they still got their kicks elsewhere. But it was different for Dean, they had never been enough.

"Dean, honey?" His mom slid forward, laying a hand on Dean's arm and Dean could tell from the look in her eyes that he'd missed whatever question she asked.

"Sorry I was..." Dean trailed off and shrugged, slight smile on his face.

"Dreaming about your boyfriend?" His brother teased and Dean rolled his eyes and reached out to ruffle his hand through his brother's usually gelled down slick hair. "Fucker."

"Michael David Johnson!" Their mother gasped and slapped the back of his brother's hair. "Don't you dare use such foul language in my house! And especially in front of your children," she shook her head and Dean couldn't help smirking at his brother getting in trouble, childhood instincts returning. Then his mother turned that look on him and Dean's smirk died on his lips. "Now. You. Tell me all about this boyfriend. Why haven't we heard about him before?"

"It's..." Dean sighed, glancing at his dad for help.

"Complicated?" The man suggested and smiled into his coffee mug as he brought it to his lips.

Dean's sister, Ashley, slid up to his side and bumped their shoulders together, "Oh aren't they all. So what is it? He's not a closet gay right? With a wife and kids or something? 'Cause I swear Dean you sometimes have the worst taste in guys."

"I do not," Dean protested, looking around at his family that was currently half circled around him. He frowned deeply and folded his arms over his chest. "Aren't there presents to be opened? Or like... turkey's to stuff? Since when did my love life become top news?"

Michael snorted, as if he had something very inappropriate to say in response to that, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Instead he punched their brother-in-law's arm and they both turned to grab Dean's nephew's video game system and begin trying to hook it up. Ashley considered them for a moment before looking back at Dean. "So what's his name?"

"Sam," Dean said softly, smile returning along the edges enough to make the women in the room coo in excitement.

His mother and sister hooked their hands around his arm and dragged him to the kitchen. Within moments Dean found himself sitting at the table, fresh cup of coffee and a plate of cookies in front of him. Dean blinked a few times, looking up at the faces of the three eager girls in front of him. "Tell us everything," his mom insisted, sliding the plate of cookies toward him as an incentive.

Dean's eyes widened slightly, a little in fear, and he turned to the door for help from the men in his family. Of course they were now all in the middle of some video game and Dean was left to suffer his own fate. "Alright," he sighed softly and snatched a cookie, using it to stall as he thought up a story that would appease the gossip hungry women. "So, he travels a lot, for work and-"

"What does he do?" His mother interrupted to ask.

Apparently there was no way to avoid _that_ subject. Dean shifted uncomfortably, not really liking the idea of lying to his family. "Well, he's kind of a problem solver. Does a lot of research and stuff. He and his partner, and I mean work partner not anything more," Dean added hastily before the women could bristle in his defense. "It's hard to explain but that's how we met, he was working a case in my town. And we got to talking and really hit it off."

"So where does he live?" Ashley asked curiously.

Dean frowned and scratched at the back of his neck, "Well, he doesn't really have a permanent place. He has to do this for awhile but hopefully that will change sooner rather than later. It's..."

"Complicated?" Nicole, his sister-in-law, suggested and the three girls giggled.

Dean barely resisted rolling his eyes. "To say the least. But he's... amazing. So really it's worth it."

The all cooed again and this time Dean did roll his eyes. _Women_. They pestered him for a physical description - since Dean failed to produce a picture much to their disappointment - which Dean gave to the best of ability, a little surprised how easily the mental image still came. Of course he had to be selective about his words, not cluing them in on the fact that Sam was much younger than him. If they had the chance to meet Sam - which he prayed that they did - then he'd cross the age bridge when he had too. "So we'll get to meet him soon yes?" His mom asked hopefully, though it sounded more like a demand than a request.

Wetting his lips with a drink of coffee, Dean nodded and reached for another cookie, "Hopefully soon," he said softly and let the girls change the topic to Nicole's barely hidden baby bump. Dean wished for a moment that he could explain everything to the women, seek out the sympathy and support, but he knew there were some things he just had to keep to himself. Sadly a lot of his relationship with Sam seemed to fit into that category.

-=-=-=-

As far as Sam was concerned winter was the worst season of the year. It always seemed to be too cold in the car, too stuffy in the Motel rooms and every hunt they went on suddenly seemed to involve being outside entirely too much. The one thing that kept him sane was the contact he had with Dean. His life had started to revolve around text messages, emails and phone calls. John was too caught up in what he was doing, his own private hunt to notice any difference in Sam. Truth be told it wasn't all that different. Sam had nearly always had his nose buried in his laptop or a notebook so it wasn't all that out of the ordinary.

The more Sam spoke with Dean on the phone the more he regretted having to leave him. He wasn't naive. He realized that Dean couldn't wait for him forever, even if he wanted to it just wasn't something the people did. They didn't wait too long. Sam also knew that he had some serious conversations ahead of him with his father. As if it weren't enough that his _relationship_ with Dean had started while he was on his first solo job, Sam suspected that his father didn't have the slightest inclination that Sam was interested in men. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to tell John. Sam didn't speak to his father about very much anymore that wasn't directly connected to a hunt. There was no room in John's life for anything other than his obsession with hunting.

So, as December turned to January and the days grew longer again, he tried to be satisfied with the limited contact that he and Dean managed. There were some brutal jobs for them in January: a vampire nest in Ohio, poltergeist in Kentucky, Tennessee was fun because John decided he wanted to disprove the existence of the Bell Witch. It turned out the ghost of the Bell Witch was real and Sam just barely managed to convince John to leave her there as she was harmless and it had become a bit of a tourist attraction. By the time February arrived Sam was exhausted and more convinced than ever that he needed to get to Dean somehow. It just didn't seem to be in the cards.

If it hadn't been for the fact that the restaurant he ordered pizza from had _heart shaped_ pizza - Sam would never have even noticed it was Valentine's Day. The ridiculous thing was once it was in his head he couldn't stop thinking about what it would have been like if he and Dean were actually living in the same city. He could have taken him out for a real date. Flipping open his laptop Sam opened his email program.

 _Dean - I was just sitting here on the bed thinking about you. Weird how that happens so much. It's Valentine's day and normally I would **never** buy into something that commercial but it's been making me think of you a lot. I was thinking about my perfect day. You see, I would have surprised you. Told you to just be ready to go in the morning. So - I would have taken you to the park first, all dressed up in warm clothes so we could walk and talk about all the things we don't have time to talk about when we're on the phone. You know, the things that we would talk about if we had time. Okay - that's depressing me. Back to my date. I would have been really sneaky and packed a lunch for us that we could eat outside, leaning against a tree, freezing our asses off. Ya see - there's a method to my madness. If you're cold then you'll sit **far** closer to me. Coffee at a nice cafe somewhere, one of those fancy ones you keep telling me you like. A cappuccino with nuts on it or something. After coffee a nice quiet dinner at home, nothing fancy, just a meal that I could make in an actual kitchen, on a stove, you'd like it just because I made it even if it wasn't perfect. And bed, early, so we could talk and you could kiss me right on that spot just beside my hip bone. You remember the spot, I know you do. That would be **our** Valentine's day. Call me when you get off work? I miss your voice. - Sam_

After he hit send, he closed the laptop and shoved it further back on the table. So much waiting sometimes.

-=-=-=-

Dean made the mistake of checking his email in the middle of his class. It was bad enough that he'd spent the entire day dealing with the over hype of Valentine's day and how much he wished Sam was near enough to actually celebrate the Hallmark Card holiday. Dean wasn't even trying to keep the attention of his students, what with the interruptions of the singing groups that came in for singing Valentine's and the constant buzz of flowers and candy being handed out, so he allowed them to chatter quietly while he sat in front of his computer.

At first after reading Sam's email his heart clenched and he had to dip his head down so no one would notice. Sam's idea for a date sounded pretty much perfect. Dean would have given anything to go on a date like that with him. But then Dean would have give anything just to _see_ Sam by this point. With a soft sigh Dean tugged his phone from his pocket and started up a text message.

 **Dean:** _sounds like the perfect date. will call in a few hours. miss you._

Flipping his phone around on the desk, Dean sighed once more and turned to the tests he'd given out the week before. Now it felt like the day would never end.

He didn't bother trying to teach any of his other classes, just gave out reading assignments and a mini essay on the pages covered. Dean read Sam's email a couple more times until one of his students noticed the sad smile on his face and the entire class's attention shifted to pestering Dean until he gave up some information about his Valentine.

By the time the final bell rang Dean was headed out the door before the last student had even left. There were too many people in the parking lot so Dean waited until he'd turned his car from the lot before hitting the first speed dial and pressing the phone to his ear.

Fumbling for his phone Sam smiled when he saw Dean's name on the screen. Punching the phone he put it up to his ear, "before you ask. I'm in Arizona which is good because it's warmer and bad because there is a distinct lack of good-looking men named Dean."

Dean chuckled as his shoulders relaxed with the wash of Sam's voice over him, "Arizona huh? That's the closest you've been for awhile." He wet his lips slowly and turned his car at the light. "So what are you up too?"

"Witch. I hate witches, have I mentioned that?" Sam shuddered involuntarily. "Where are you? Your voice sounds muffled?"

"Driving home," Dean shook his head slightly. "Witches? Lame. How do you... take care of that? Tell me there's no burning at a stake or tying to a chair and throwing in a lake involved." He chuckled softly, "that's the history teacher in me speaking up."

Laughing softly Sam started rooting around in his bag, "There has been no burning at the stake although she did manage to slam me into a wall. I've got a bruise the size of my head on my hip." He grimaced even thinking about it and smiled brightly when he pulled his hand out of the bag with a Snickers bar. "Snickers!"

Dean slipped his car into park as he pulled into his spot and laughed, "butterfingers!" A warm smile tugged at his lips as he pushed the door open, grabbing his bag and heading to the building. "What game are we playing?"

"We're playing the Sam is foraging for food game. I'm starving. Witches make me hungry." Sam at back in his chair and tossed the bag on the floor beside him. Same old layout in yet another Motel room.

"I think I have enough candy to feed a small country," Dean mused as he slipped the key into his apartment door. "My students felt the need to provide me lots of sweets. I would share," he said softly and cleared his throat, not finishing the thought. "You alone?"

"Yeah, Dad's in the next town for the night. I didn't even ...." Sam had heard that _tone_ in Dean's voice before. "You home now?"

Dean dropped his bag and pulled roughly at his tie, toeing off his shoes, "I am. Just unwinding. It's been a long day." A familiar sort of heat sparked along Dean's body, one that he'd come to associate with Sam's voice and how it affected him. "You didn't even what?"

Clearing his throat, Sam moved over to the bed and stretched out. "I didn't even ask him why he was going to be gone all night because I wanted to call you." Sam licked his lips and closed his eyes to conjure up the image of Dean coming home from school.

"Oh," Dean smiled softly and walked down the hall to his bedroom, laying his tie across the doorknob to his closet. "Well, I can't say I'm complaining," he chuckled softly and balanced the phone in the crook of his shoulder, pressed into his ear as his fingers worked along the buttons on the front of his shirt. "So all alone, what should we talk about?" He asked quietly, voice slightly deeper as he centered in on the heat Sam's voice sparked in him.

"Hmmm," Sam smiled, "What are you doing? You're moving around a lot." Sam stretched his arm up and moaned, "my muscles ache. Did you take your tie off already? I _love_ it when you wear a tie." Sam felt his stomach do that familiar little flop that often followed thoughts of Dean and the removal of his clothing. He grinned.

Dean smiled and shrugged out of his shirt, "I seem to remember your fondness for my tie." Dean considered the pair of sweats draped over the chair as his fingers popped at the button of his pants. "I am currently sans tie however. Shirt as well. Actually, in a few moments I'm not even gonna have pants on so I suppose I'll just be naked," he smirked slightly, zipper dragging down between his fingers.

"Ooh," Sam's mind had _no_ trouble at all retrieving that image, "oh." Sam could feel his dick start to swell just at the mere thought of Dean naked on the other end of the phone. "I wish I ... was there." _God_ did he wish his was there.

Once more Dean considered his sweats before walking to the bed, dropping down on the edge and sliding back to stretch out on the mattress. "I wish you were here too," he said softly and laid his hand on his chest, sliding down slowly. "What would you do? If you were here?" They hadn't crossed this line yet during phone calls but Dean had often considered it. Seemed like a pretty good time to cross the line.

"Oooh, I - I would," Sam's heart started to beat faster, "I love touching your chest, the way your skin feels under my hands. It's so smooth, not like mine, no scars," Sam licked his lips, "I, where are you? Are you," Sam's voice was breathy, "in your bedroom?"

Swallowing, Dean pressed the phone a little tighter into his ear and slid his fingers along his hipbone. "I'm on my bed," he said softly, voice rough with the beginning of his arousal. "Are you lying down? What are you wearing?" Dean couldn't help chuckling softly at that, feeling a little silly for saying something that sounded straight out of a bad porn or something.

Laughing, Sam tucked his hand under the hem of his t-shirt. "My jeans, that baby blue t-shirt that I have, a big-ass grin." Sam's fingers rubbed along his belly. Every time Sam closed his eyes he could see flashes of Dean's body, almost taste the man's kisses. " _God_ , how do you do this without forgetting to talk?"

"Well," Dean murmured and teased slow touches along his body, not touching where he wanted to touch most. "I must just have more concentration skills," he chuckled softly and let his eyes flutter closed as he pictured Sam's body. "Sounds like you're wearing too much though. Kind of defeats the purpose and all. You should take _something_ off at least."

Sam's hand pushed his shirt up along his chest, "I'm taking my t-shirt off, the way _you_ did, you know how you slide the material up my stomach, then my chest - God I loved when you did that. The way you wanted to touch every inch of my flesh. Just a sec," Sam pulled the phone away from his ear so he could slip the shirt over his head, switched the phone to his other hand and flung the shirt off his arm. "No shirt." He settled back on the bed, rubbing his hand across his chest to his collar bone.

Dean could still picture the long expanse of Sam's chest, whispers of his taste sparking ghost-like along his tongue. "God, I want to taste you again," he murmured, wetting his lips again at the thought. "The way you arch up into me, like you want it more than anything. I wanna feel your lips on my skin too. Have you bruise my neck like before. Do you remember how I taste?" He asked quietly, fingers splaying across his chest.

"Y..Yeah," Sam's hand moved lower on his body, ghosting across his abs, "I love the way you taste, salty, sweet," his lips puffed out as he exhaled. "The day you had to go to class with bruises on you," Sam moaned softly, "I wanna do that again, suck on your skin until it's hot with blood and bite on it." Sam gasped and held the phone with his shoulder so he could unbutton his jeans. "I need, I want your hands on me."

"Sam," Dean gasped in return, hand sliding down his body to finally wrap around himself and stroke up in one long drag. "I can still feel you, the way you clenched around me when I fucked you," he murmured, hips curving up into his hand, words starting to blur with the heat racing around his system. "So tight and hot. And the way the flesh along your hipbones tastes, just salty enough with the sweat, the noises you made when I dragged my teeth along the skin. Jesus Sam I wanna make you moan like that again."

" _God_ , Dean," Sam's voice was thick and rough, grating its way out of his throat, "I - are you touching yourself? The way I would touch you? The way," he sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, "I'm touching myself."

Sam's hand slid down the front of his jeans, long fingers curling round his cock. "When I'm falling asleep sometimes, I think about how it felt when you fucked me. So full," his fingers dragged along his rigid flesh, "the heat, _Jesus_ ," Sam arched up into his own hand. "W..What are you doing?"

Dean moaned and rolled his hips up into his touch, "My hand is on my cock," he informed, voice close to strangled. "I'm imagining it’s your mouth, sucking me in - _God_ \- that pretty little mouth of yours, the way you licked and sucked everywhere. I swear the minute I see you I'm gonna have you pinned to the wall. I – fuck, I can just barely feel the way your body burned beneath me," Dean panted the words out, squeezing his fingers tightly. "Do you touch yourself _there_ Sam? Pretend it's me?"

Growling softly against the phone Sam shifted, shoving his jeans and boxers out of the way roughly, freeing his swollen shaft. "I d..do, shower," Sam almost whispered, fingers curling hard round his weeping cock. "Like it when you're rough, want you, when I get there, want you to throw me up against the wall, _fuck_ , want you to just shove your body against me, press into me - so hot." Sam moaned softly as his fingers started a steady stroking rhythm, "what if I could,” he panted, “finger myself, get myself stretched, warm, ready for you."

"Fuck," Dean moaned and tightened his fingers around himself, stroking faster. "I'd fuck you right there. Against the door," his hips jerked up into his touch and he gasped sharply at the image. "I'd hold you up, hook your leg around my hip and just fuck right into you. I wouldn't stop, would just drive into you hard and rough - make you feel me everywhere. Would you beg for me Sam? Beg me to fuck you harder? _God_ the way you moan my name when I fuck you.” Dean moaned once more; thumb dragging along the slit of his cock.

"Dean,” Sam's hand moved faster on his shaft, fingers grazing over the slick head, "yes, _God_ , please, I would." Sam's throat felt like he'd swallowed sand paper. He spread his legs slightly, imagining the feel of Dean's body lifting him off the floor like that, slamming hard into him, "I want that, want you, I wanna feel bruised 'cause of the way you fuck into me. So I can feel it for days." Sam's hips were rocking up into his hand, "Dean, I wanna..."

"God I know Sam," Dean panted heavily, rolling his hips up into his touch over and over. "S'gonna be so fuckin' good. I'm gonna fuck you so hard we won't be able to stand afterward. Then you will feel me for days, every time you move." He could feel his orgasm pushing up through his body, each quick stroke bringing him closer to the edge. "So close Sam, fuck I wanna hear you come. Wish I could see you. Touch you. Drink you down." Dean clenched his eyes tightly, pace on his cock quickening.

"I n..never got to," Sam's voice was barely above a whisper, "suck you, want my mouth on you." He moaned, his release building to a fever pitch, hips moving quickly to thrust his dick into his grip, "Dean, can't – I’m gonna -" Sam was panting into the phone, barely remembering to hold it up to his mouth. "Want my, want to taste your come, feel it," moaning Sam gasped in a breath as he ran out of oxygen, "feel it slide down my throat." Sam's hand moved quickly, the heat of his flesh pulsing as he stroked. "De-" Sam's hips snapped up off the bed and he moaned long and hard, panting harsh breaths against the phone as he came.

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he listened to Sam gasp for breath, the sound of flesh slapping together just barely there beneath the moans. " _Sam_ ," he moaned and jerked his hips up into his hand, tugging at himself swiftly until his muscles tightened and the hot spurts of come fell across his hand and abs, breath harsh and rugged. Collapsing back on the mattress, Dean continued to listen to Sam's breath as his heart rate evened out. "Damn," he whispered, groaning as he pulled up his sheet to wipe at the cooling come.

Sam mumbled something incoherent that ended with "Dean," and smiled. His body was buzzing with pleasure. Nothing had felt that good since he'd left Dean, he really needed _more_.

"Mmhmm," Dean murmured and sighed softly, enjoying the comfortable silence falling between them. His mind shifted to what it would be like if Sam were here, how they'd kiss gently, hold each other close. "Sam," he said quietly, voice much sadder than he'd intended.

Sighing, Sam turned slightly onto his side, "I know, I'm - I’m s..sorry things are like this." It was such a mixture of emotions, feelings, the warmth of his post-orgasmic haze and the underlying emptiness. There had been a hole deep inside Sam since he'd first left Dean's side.

"Me too," he whispered and wet his lips. "I miss you. But, it's okay. I can wait." Dean swallowed and rubbed at his forehead.

Squeezing his eyes shut Sam frowned, "you don't have to, you know. I mean, I get it if you can't, or won't, I _want_ you so much - it makes me selfish, I guess." Sam sighed and slid his arm across his chest, grabbing his shoulder.

"Sam, I will. And I can," Dean insisted and shook his head. Definitely not how he imagined finishing this conversation. "I want – just, as soon as you can. I know it's pretty much impossible, right now. But I know once you get the chance you will." Sometimes thinking that was the only thing that got him through, clinging to hope desperately.

"Okay, Dean?" Sam closed his eyes again; it was so easy to see Dean's face.

Dean pushed up to the edge of his bed, rising on shaky legs and crossing to his sweats, "Yeah Sam?"

"I love you, so -" Sam's breath shuddered, "so much it hurts sometimes." Sam laughed softly, embarrassed.

A warm smile lit up Dean's face and he leaned back against the wall, head falling back. "I know. It doesn't make sense. To love you so much. But, god it's a little amazing huh?" He chuckled and pushed off the wall to head down the hall to the kitchen. "Despite the ache of not having you here to show you how much I love you, I wouldn't trade this feeling for anything."

"What you doing now?" A bit of the earlier humor returned to Sam's voice. He reached down and grabbed his t-shirt off the floor and wiped his body off.

"Makin' a sandwich," Dean mumbled into the phone as he pulled the bread from its holder and turned to the fridge. "Got big plans tonight?" He asked with an amused upward quirk of his words. It was safer on this ground, not thinking about how much he missed Sam.

"A snickers bar, was gonna watch a porno - but _Jesus_ , like that would compare to you." Sam grinned and reached out for the chocolate bar. "You're ruining in room movies for me, Dean." Sam tugged the wrapper off the chocolate bar and held it between his teeth while he reached back to pull the blanket over his shoulders. "S'cold out m'not goin' outside n'more." Sam drooled a little before he managed to get the chocolate bar out of his mouth. "Gross, I drooled on myself."

Dean snorted, nearly loosing the phone balanced against his shoulder, "Smooth. Clearly I have the most suave boyfriend ever." He smiled fondly as he smeared peanut butter against a slice of bread. "My mom said hi. We spoke on the phone yesterday and she _once again_ asked about you."

"Did you tell her that I'm like, sex on a stick? The hottest thing ever?" Sam nibbled on the end of the chocolate bar, "oh yeah, and that I'm incredibly sweet. OH! Shit! I totally forgot!" Sam sat up, "it's all your fault, distracting me." Sam's voice drifted off as the heat in his belly rekindled as he thought about the new adventures in phone sex they could have.

"Jesus you're such a spaz sometimes," Dean laughed as he placed the jelly back in the fridge. "What did you forget? The blinds aren't open are they?" Dean shook his head at the thought, carrying his sandwich into the living room.

Sam glanced over to the window, "the blinds? Oooh, I get it..." he laughed, "no they weren't open." Sam leaned back against the headboard. "I sorta told my Dad that I liked guys." Sam raised his eyebrows, he was still pretty surprised himself. He was relatively surprised he was still alive.

"Y-you did?" Dean choked on the bite of sandwich he'd taken, coughing loudly and pounding on his chest. A moment later he managed to take a drink of Coke and catch his breath. "So, how did it go? Was he... I mean, obviously he didn't kick you to the street."

"Please don't choke to death, that would make my _coming out_ pretty pointless. And, it went surprisingly better than I thought. I used a diversionary tactic - said I was thinking of not hunting with him anymore and _oh yeah, Dad, I think I'm gay_." Sam scratched his nose. "He said there was no way in hell I was going anywhere without him and that he didn't really seem why it was any of his concern who I had sex with. All in all - could have been worse."

Dean pursed his lips, processing Sam's words for a long moment before saying softly, "so what does this mean? He obviously doesn't like the idea of you leaving. Are you-" Dean sighed softly and shook his head, taking another long drink from his coke.

"Am I what?" Sam's brow furrowed, he'd thought Dean would be pleased that he'd told his Dad.

"Well are you sure you can leave?" Dean rolled his shoulders and shook his head. "Okay sorry. That's really not the subject right now. It's a good thing, that you told your dad. I'm glad he didn't completely freak on you. Coming out is a big step Sam." Dean chuckled softly, "it will probably sound lame but I'm proud of you for doing that. Not everyone is brave enough."

"I can’t leave now, he was pretty clear. But this is progress, right?" Sam didn't mean to sound quite as desperate as he did for Dean's approval. He never would have said anything at all - but frankly, it had scared the shit out of him to tell his Dad at all and then again, it had scared him when his Dad had said he couldn't leave. For some reason Sam had always managed to convince himself that he could leave when he wanted to, move on, and now he'd realized that wasn't true.

Dean's heart clenched slightly and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the growing fear that things really might not work out the way he'd been imagining they would. "Yeah Sam. It's... yeah," he rubbed at his eyes for a moment, blowing out a long breath. "I better go. I have papers. Grading."

"Oh, okay," Sam knew that tone, the sadness. "I - I love you. Will you call me sometime?"

"Of course," Dean nodded and wiped angrily at the tears that pricked along his eyes. He hated how it always seemed to get to this place with him. "I love you too. Talk to you later."

"Bye," Sam said softly as he ended the call. He wrapped the blanket tighter round his shoulder, but no matter how tight he got it - it was never the same as having Dean's arms around him.


	6. Chapter 6

After the epic Valentine's Day call - as he referred to it in his mind - Dean found himself once more slipping back into that sadness and ache that was all too familiar during his relationship with Sam. If there was one thing he'd learned about his boyfriend, it was his intense level of respect for his father. Dean knew the man was the single most important person in Sam's life and he wasn't going to put their father-son relationship at jeopardy just because of some guy. Even if this was love between them, family always came first. Dean didn't like the idea of this being taken from him before he had a chance to experience its full potential.

 _**This is Sam, leave a message** _

"Hey," Dean breathed into the phone. "So, fourth voice mail since Valentine's day. I hope you're okay. I..." he scrubbed a hand across his face, a full week since he last heard from Sam and he felt like he was losing his mind. "I'm sorry if I upset you at the end of our call last time. I think I'm just realizing that maybe you won't ever feel right leaving your father. And I understand, because he's your dad and that's important. I'm still going to wait for you, and I'll continue to until you tell me not to. I'm sure even then I will. I miss you." Dean pursed his lips and blew a large breath through his nose. "Okay, I'm gonna go before I start crying on your voice mail and sounding more like an emotional freak. Let me know you're okay."

Stabbing at the end button on his phone, Dean sighed and dropped it to the side. At this rate he was rapidly heading toward that path he always tended to send all his relationships. Asking for too much, clinging to hope, demanding attention. It was really no wonder he couldn't keep anything solid.

Dean got a text from Sam the next day, letting him know he was okay but in the middle of a really big hunt that was going to take some time. He didn't offer details and Dean didn't ask, just asking Sam to call him when he could.

For the next few weeks Dean went nearly insane trying to restrain himself from calling Sam more than once every few days. He felt stupid and he tried to cover that by leaving random voice mails about pointless things. Sometimes he talked about the book he was reading, or the antique show he and his mom had driven three hours to get to. Other times he talked about the things he saw around him, or the way his students were slowly slipping into the craziness of spring energy. Sam continued the occasional text, just to let him know he was okay, busy with a hunt, stuck with his dad, unable to get away. Dean tried to take those for what they were and not let himself overreact.

"I think I'm pushing Sam away," Dean said the moment his sister picked up the phone.

"Dean?" Ashley sounded temporarily confused before sighing softly, "oh honey, why do you say that?"

"Because I haven't heard from him since Valentine's Day. I mean, not really. He's texted a few times. And I keep being this stupid ass loser who calls every other day and leaves voice mails," Dean fell back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The window on the opposite wall was open, letting in the surprisingly warm end of-March spring air. "I'm overcrowding him. And maybe he's trying to tell me to back off and-"

"Holy shit baby brother," Ashley laughed, interrupting him. "You need to take a deep breath and stop freaking out. So, what happened on Valentine's Day? Anything that would lead you to think he wasn't interested anymore."

Dean thought over the phone call, quickly shoving away the thoughts of Sam's gasped moans that flared heat through him. "He came out to his work partner. Which also happens to be his dad. So... and well he said that his dad wasn't too keen on him leaving. I think I'm just scared he won't ever stop doing that work. And I'm so hopelessly _gone_ over him, I don't think I would even know how to get over him."

Ashley sighed in her over dramatic way that caused Dean to roll his eyes on reflex. "Dean, you're over thinking things. He's probably busy with work. Look he wouldn't have come out to his dad if he didn't care about you. People don't just come out for the heck of it, you know that. Now let him have some time to adjust to that. And what's the big deal? I'm sure Sam's a big boy and can leave his dad once the right time comes."

"Well..." Dean massaged along the back of neck and flinched slightly. "It's uh... not quite so simple."

"Why?" Ashley asked softly and Dean could hear the frown in her voice. "Is there some sort of work contract he's under?"

"Uh... no. It's more of an... age complication," Dean muttered, heart racing slightly. He wasn't quite sure why he felt the need to share this with his sister, and it was probably pretty stupid but he needed to _talk_ to someone and this was the closest he was going to get without giving away all the details.

"Age?" Ashley gasped softly, "Oh Dean, please don't tell me he's a student."

"No," Dean insisted quickly. He wasn't going to add that things had started off that way, no; there were some details she really didn't need to know. "I wasn't lying about his dad and such, he's just younger."

"Well the only time I can think of age really making a difference as to whether or not he can leave his father's care is if he were seventeen or younger. Dean?"

Dean frowned and scratched at his hair. "What? I don't think that sentence even made sense."

"You're avoiding the subject," Ashley sighed in aggravation. "Is he seventeen?"

"He... his birthday is in May," Dean said softly, knowing she would take it for what it was. The closest to an answer as he could get.

"Oh Dean," she clicked her tongue and Dean could imagine the dark sway of her hair as she shook her head. ”That's so young."

"Trust me, he doesn't act like it. He's really mature for his age, because of the life he lived," Dean came to Sam's defence quickly, not letting her disapproval weigh too heavily on him. "You'll see. When you... if you get to meet him, you'd never guess he was only..." Dean wet his lips and listened to the silence for awhile before saying, "you can't tell mom."

Ashley sighed once more and Dean really wished he'd never called her in the first place, "I won't. Just, be careful Dean. Kids that young-"

"Don't call him a kid," Dean snapped, face falling. "God Ash I was looking for some support here. I don't need a lecture."

"Dean stop it. I'm trying to support you but god, _seventeen_ Dean? And you can be so intense..." Ashley set a pan on the stove, Dean listened to it clatter.

Dean couldn't help bristling at the words. "Fine Ashley. Whatever. I have to go."

"Wait Dean, please don't be like this-"

"It's fine. I'm... it's fine. Talk to you later." Dean pulled the phone back and hung up before she could say anything. God he was making a real royal mess of things.

Pushing off his bed Dean headed down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing a coke before heading back to his room. He shoved his window up the rest of the way before dropping down on the rim, crooking his knee up and staring out across the parking lot and to the park across the street. His phone was still clenched in his fist and he sighed softly before flipping it open. He hadn't called Sam in four days, a new record for him, but he needed to hear his voice.

Hitting the first button on his speed dial, Dean sighed and brought the device to his ear, waiting for the machine and to the too brief message.

"S'you again," Sam sniffed and fell back onto his bed still wearing his jacket. Sam might have been a little drunk, probably was, really he shouldn't have had the last beer.

"Sam?" Dean sat up from the window ledge in surprise. "You... you answered," he blinked a few times, hardly daring to believe that he was actually talking to him.

"Yup." Sam hiccupped and laughed quietly. "I pushed that little button and _there_ you are just like always. You know, hardly anyone else ever calls me." Groaning Sam rolled over so he was lying face down. "S'hot in here."

Dean frowned, trying to figure out what was wrong. After a few moments of consideration it occurred to him what made Sam's voice slurred slightly and he frowned. "You're drunk," he said softly, wondering if that's what it took to get Sam to answer the phone.

Sam coughed for a few moments, "m'a little drunk. I made a friend though! Stephen with a ph. Didn't get kicked out of the bar for once. Dad said it was 'cause he was there ... but pfft, he wasn't there the whole time. Lots of people think I look older than I am. Right? You thought ... think I look older right?" Sam licked his lips and tried to turn the lamp on, it was just out of his reach and he gave up.

Crossing slowly to his bed, Dean sat on the edge and stared out the window. "You haven't called me back." He sighed and tried to ignore the jealousy at _Stephen with a ph_. Dean rolled his eyes and scratched at his chest.

"I was pissed. S'okay now though m'not pissed at the moment. How's things? School. how's school?" _God_ , even a little drunk Sam could feel that dull ache inside him, the one that he got whenever he realized how much he missed Dean.

"Pissed?" Dean felt a little - a lot - out of his element. Seemed like every word out of Sam's mouth was throwing him for another loop. "At me?"

"Who do you think?" Sam laughed and started trying to struggle out of his jacket. Dropping the phone he spoke loudly, "Jussa minute!" When he finally managed to get the jacket off he was breathing hard. "Damn! That was hard. Good thing I'm not trying to have sex with someone - can't even get my own jacket off."

Dean blinked in surprise, lips thinning out. "You were mad at me?" He asked slowly. His phone beeped in his ear and he frowned as he pulled it back and looked at Ashley's name on the caller ID. Last person he needed to talk to right now. He probably shouldn't be talking to Sam either, since drunken conversations never went well and it felt like the whole in his head was wide enough to see through.

"Shhh I said it didn't matter now. I'm happy for once, don't wreck it. Let's talk about what you're wearing." Sam smiled. The first couple of beers hadn't done much to the ache inside his chest, the third and fourth hadn't hurt the situation though. It was nice to spend a few hours not feeling like he was missing part of himself.

"It does matter," Dean insisted, pushing up from the bed to pace around the room. "Jesus Sam I've been calling you every other fucking day for the past what? Five weeks? And you've barely spared me a few text messages until now where you answer obviously drunk and start talking about some fucking _Stephen with a ph_. What the hell am I supposed to think? All this time I've been trying to fight off this feeling that I'm losing you and..." the energy left Dean in a whoosh and he dropped back on his bed. "I should go. This isn't a conversation to have when you're drunk."

"No, we shouldn't 'cause this is remarkably like talkin' to my Dad right now. I don't need another over-bearing male in my life." Sam's buzz was wearing off already and that just sucked. "And Stephen? Just a guy I chatted with Dean. Am I not allowed to do that? Cause maybe you weren't clear about how much of my life you wanted to control." Sam pushed up onto his elbows and rubbed as his head, it was already aching like a bastard.

Dean sucked in a shocked breath, tears prickling along his eyes. He _knew_ it. He was being over bearing, crowding into Sam's space, fucking up things like usual. "You're right," he said softly. "I'm sorry. I have no right to demand anything of you." Dean dragged his fingers under his eye lids and stared once more out the window. "I'll stop."

"So.." Sam cleared his throat and settled back down on the bed, "you wanna talk about what you're wearing now?" He was pretty sure neither of them did but that was a much more fun conversation to be having.

“No," Dean said softly and closed his eyes slowly. The phone beeped once more in his ear and he sighed. "My sister is calling me. I think I pissed her off a little. I should take that."

"Oh, well, okay. Family first ... and all. Talk to you later." Sam pushed at the end button and tossed his phone down on the floor. He felt like a complete and utter asshole. Great, drunk, lonely, and miserable. Life pretty much couldn't get any better.

Dean stared at the phone in his hand, watching as tears dropped down his cheeks and splashed along the device. Within a minute it was ringing once more _Ashley_ flashing across the caller ID. Dean shook his head and held the end button down until the device turned off. It felt weird, turning off his phone for the first time since Sam had left him. Dean just couldn't take any more tonight, not from anyone. Rolling over onto the bed, away from the window, Dean closed his eyes around the burn of tears and sighed shakily, trying to tell himself that whatever happened was for the best and no matter what he'd be okay. It seemed pretty unlikely at this point in time.

-=-=-=-

Dean deserved far better than what Sam gave him. Of that one thing Sam was sure. His whole life he'd done everything his Father said without question and now, the biggest thing in his life and he was having to face the fact that his father might _not_ always be right. How could anyone expect a son to stay with a parent forever? Maybe John figured Sam was too messed up for a _normal_ life - maybe it was too late for him to change. But, Dean made Sam want to be better, want to be something other than a guy who dropped out of school and spent most of his life on the road.

He was hungover and miserable the day after the most horrendous conversation he'd had so far with Dean. Sam wasn't even blessed with a poor memory of the night before. He remembered everything which seemed, somehow, fitting. Even refusing himself pain killers for his head ache didn't really seem like punishment enough. He spent the day in the Motel room, dozing away the sick feeling in his stomach and drinking coffee.

By the time it was getting dark outside, Sam was itching to phone Dean, he'd just wanted to give him enough time to get home and settled. Then, he just had to hope that Dean would answer the phone, Sam wasn't so sure that would happen. He managed to wait until six thirty and then punched Dean's speed dial number, nerves rachetting up a notch when the phone started to ring.

When the phone began ringing Dean automatically assumed it was Ashley, without even checking the caller ID. She'd been calling almost every ten minutes on the dot all day no matter how much he ignored it and he was at his limit. Dean sighed heavily and flipped open his cell phone and pressed the device to his ear, nearly growling, "Damnit Ashley I'm really not discussing this any further. Sam is plenty grown up to make his own decisions and I've had a shit twenty four hours so _lay off_."

Blinking in surprise Sam cleared his throat, "I've had a pretty shitty twenty-four hours too." He swallowed around the lump in his throat. Even hearing Dean say his name while he was frustrated sounded good. "Don't hang up on me?"

"Oh," Dean pulled the phone back and stared at the name on the screen with a frown. After a moment he pressed the device back to his ear and sighed, "sorry. I uh... thought you were my sister. She's been stalking me."

"She worried about you?" Sam had never been uncomfortable speaking to Dean on the phone before.

"She's mad at me," Dean said softly and massaged the back of neck. "Doesn't matter. How... how are you feeling?" Wetting his lips, Dean fell back against the couch and sighed softly. He hadn't expected Sam to call, not now at least. Some parts of Dean had wondered if he'd ever hear from Sam again.

"Feeling?" Sam looked down at his legs and rubbed his palm along his thigh. "I feel like I don't deserve to have you even talk to me? Like I'm an idiot, guilty, lonely... scared. I've been scared all day that I lost you." Sam's voice grew softer as he spoke.

Dean's lips quirked up in a small smile and he sighed. "Oh Sam... You’re not the first one to get drunk and say really, _really_ stupid things. And... it did hurt yeah but... you didn't lose me. In fact I was sitting over here thinking I probably lost you," Dean reached out for his beer and drained half the contents. Of course he wasn't about to repeat the drunk conversation but some liquid courage did help.

"You're not overbearing, and you're nothing like my Dad - nothing at all." Sam blurted out then took a deep breath. "Dean, I don't know what to do. I can't just leave my Dad - I mean, that's stuff I haven't told you, about my Mom. But - I'm starting, I mean, I don't know how to be me anymore - without you." Sam gasped in a breath and curled his fingers hard into his leg. "I'm scared that... we won't... that things won't work out. What if they don’t work out?"

"I..." Dean spun the beer bottle on the table, frown tugging down his lips. "Any time you begin a relationship there's always that what if Sam. It's part of life. But sometimes you just have to be brave and take that step. Life isn't worth living if you don't take risks," he said softly, relying on things his mom had told him over the years. "Sam, I love you and I'm willing to take that chance with you but I understand that it would mean much more of a sacrifice on your part. So, if you need more time or, you know, I'll keep waiting."

"You're always so patient, so..." Sam took a deep breath, "perfect. Don't you ever get mad? Selfish?" Sam's voice was quiet. He curled up on his side and stared out the window.

Dean laughed and nodded. "God, Sam you have no idea how much I do. I just filter most of it, keep it to myself. Safer that way."

"So, should I not tell you things? Like that I mean?" Sam closed his eyes. “Sometimes, I feel better after I get things out but if it's better maybe I should filter myself, too."

"No, please don't filter yourself," Dean said softly. "I want to hear it all. I just - my issues are all from past drama. I worry sometimes you know? That if I load too much of what I'm feeling on you that you'll feel pressured. I don't want that. But I mean, you heard all of those voice mails right? Wasn't there some point where you just thought I was absolutely insane and possibly considered a restraining order?" Dean chuckled nervously, heart clenching.

"No, I was trying to figure out how I could get to you, get there, without my Dad killin' me." Sam's breath came a little easier. "I just wanted to be with you, hold you, make you believe that everything was okay. The thing was I just didn't have the guts to talk to you in person, in case..." Sam licked his lips.

Dean rubbed his palm into his eye and sighed softly, "what are we going to do Sam? I - I want to see you so bad." He frowned and bit down hard on his lip before suggesting softly. "What about just for a weekend? Could you say you have another case? Or I could meet you? I could get a couple days off pretty easily and..." Dean swallowed, heart thudding heavy in his chest. "I'll drive wherever you are."

"Dean, I'm in Louisiana - you can't even get here in two days - and how do I explain that to my Dad?" Sam sighed. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't want to - I don't think I could say good-bye again." Sam pulled his knees up and shivered slightly.

"Oh," Dean frowned and nodded slowly. "Okay. Well, it was a stupid idea anyway," he whispered and picked at the couch. "I..." Dean turned his eyes up to the sky and thinned his lips. "I'm sorry Sam. I don't really know what to say."

It felt like someone was tightening a band around Sam's chest. "Y..You givin' up on me?" He bit hard on his bottom lip knowing that it would happen sooner or later.

"No," Dean shook his head, "I just thought one day I wouldn't be waiting anymore. But it's okay. I'll keep-" he blew out a long breath and dragged his short nails across his scalp. "Damnit Sam I _need_ to see you. You couldn't get away for even a few hours? I'll drive through the night and..." Dean trailed off shook away the tears prickling along his eyes. "Not gonna work huh?"

"I don't keep - I can't keep doing this. I'm sorry. D..Dean, I gotta go. I love you okay? No matter what." Sam's voice was shaky, weak.

"S-sam," Dean choked on the name, heart clenching unexpectedly. "Wait please, don't go. I love you too and we can make it work. Please don't give up on us." Dean clung to the phone, terrified that hanging up would mean the end.

"It's okay, Dean. I'm tired and I gotta do some things. I dunno. I'm really sorry that things are so messed up. Really." Sam took a breath and listened, he loved the small noises he heard on the other end of the line, Dean breathing, moving around.

Dean didn't feel any more comforted by the words than he felt moments before but he sighed, knowing it was useless to try and fight it. When Sam was done with a phone call, it was generally done. "Okay," he whispered, wiping a stray tear from his cheek.

"Love you, bye..." Sam hung up his phone and settled down on the pillow.

"Love you," Dean whispered even though Sam had already hung up. He'd barely dropped the phone when it rang again. This time he snatched it up and peered at the caller ID. Blowing out a small breath he turned it on and pressed it to his ear. "Ashley," he choked on the name, barely registering her _I'm on my way_ before he dropped the phone once more.

The feeling of loneliness and loss seemed to consume Dean and he curled up in a ball on the couch, wondering how he'd fallen hard enough to make the pain so glaringly intense. He couldn't even remember it hurting this bad when he'd officially called it off with his other boyfriends. Even with the guy he dated in high school that he had thought was going to be his partner for life. Maybe it was the idea of losing Sam before they had even had the chance to really _be_. Like he was being cheated out something that could be so great.

Dean and his family were always very close and both his brother and sister had a key to his apartment so when Ashley showed up an hour and a half later she let herself in and instantly moved to Dean's side. For the most part Dean considered himself a strong person but everyone had their moments where breaking down was all they could do.

"Oh honey," Ashley said softly and gathered Dean up against her chest, stroking a hand soothingly through his hair. Thankfully, she didn't try to get Dean to talk. His tears started all over again now that skinny arms were wrapped around him.

Dean felt like an idiot. "Fuck Ash why do I let myself get so attached?" He whispered hoarsely. "It's not like he ever lied to me. I always knew who he was, what type of life he lived. He basically _told_ me that there was no chance for us. And I kept pushing him and pushing him and basically _stalking_ him." He slid his body down and laid his head on Ashley's lap, letting her hands stroke comfortingly through Dean's hair. "I didn't even get a chance with him Ash, not really. It's not fair."

"I know Dean," she whispered softly and soothed a hand along his back slowly. They sat together in silence until Dean felt he had a little better grip on his tears. Eventually Ashley asked quietly, "did you two break up?"

"I... don't know," he shrugged and pushed himself up, rubbing at his eyes. "He doesn't think he can leave his dad and I said I'd meet him somewhere but it would be hard. To say goodbye again after another wonderful night. So, I guess that makes sense. It would hurt. But god I'd give anything to see him again." Dean curled his fingers in his lap and sighed quietly before turning to look at his sister and quirk a half smile. "I must sound really pathetic."

She smiled softly and reached out to wipe his cheek. "Oh Dean, you've always been a little pathetic."

Dean chuckled, knowing the teasing words were just her way of comforting him. "Gee thanks Ash," he rubbed at his chest and wet his lips. "Kids?"

"Left them with Nicolas," Ashley shrugged and settled back on the couch beside him. "Told him I was having a gay night."

Dean smiled at her, falling to the side to rest his head on her shoulder. "Thanks sis, I appreciate it."

"Wanna talk anymore about it?" She asked softly, laying a hand on his thigh. "You can tell me anything, I promise it stays between us."

"No. I - maybe when I know it's officially over. If that happens," Dean shrugged. "I have to cling to something for awhile."

"Dean..." Ashley said softly in warning.

Dean pushed up and met Ashley's eyes, "if you tell Michael about this I'll tell mom you made out with Lisa during your senior year behind the willow tree."

Ashley snorted and ruffled a hand through Dean's hair. "It's our secret baby brother. Just... be careful okay?"

"I will," Dean nodded though he was pretty certain it was too late for that type of warning.

"Now come on, we're going to dinner and a movie. I have this hunch that you haven't done anything besides going to school and antique fairs for months," Ashley rolled her eyes and pushed up, dragging Dean off the couch. She watched his eyes slide to the phone on the floor and she snatched his free hand before he could move. "Nope. It's just you and me tonight. No phones okay?"

"But I..." Dean's lower lip pushed out slightly.

"Damnit Dean, I'm older and wiser and _far_ prettier so listen to me," Ashley shook her head and pulled Dean toward his shoes. "Let's go have some fun, you'll feel much better."

By the time Dean arrived home it was after eleven and he was really going to regret that because he had to get up early to finish the papers he didn't grade. Ashley had drunk too much so Dean set her up on his bed before taking the couch. The minute he got settled he reached out and curled his fingers around his phone. Dean stared at the blank screen, heart clenching slightly. After a moment he started up a text message.

 **Dean:** _Love you. Miss you. We okay?_

Dean stared at the phone until his eyes burned and he gave in to sleep. When he woke in the morning there was no response and his heart broke just a little more.

-=-=-=-

Ashley wasn't too happy with her hang over, or the fact that Dean had allowed her to drink so much, so he cooked her a nice fatty breakfast and fixed their brother's cure all hang over drink. The face she made at drinking it was worth the smell that would likely be lingering on his hands all day and Dean felt a little better heading to work and letting her show herself out. Even if he had to promise to her he wasn't going to do anything stupid. Dean wasn't _dumb_ after all. No matter how much his heart hurt. Dean needed his job, needed to keep going. So he clung to that.

At lunch he called Sam's cell phone and was really not that surprised when the man didn't answer. He whispered a soft, "I wish you'd at least let me know if I'm holding on to something that exists," before hanging up.

Sam didn't call back, and he didn't text either.

The next morning Dean glared at his still blank phone until his alarm went off. He managed to hold off on calling Sam's line until lunch and didn't even flinch when the voice mail sounded. With a soft sigh he turned his phone off without leaving a message and sat it on his desk. Sam probably needed time. He really should have just backed off in the first place. At least it was Friday. He could spend the entire weekend being miserable then hopefully be a little more bearable the following week.

 **Dean:** _You probably need time. Sorry. Im here when you need me_

Dean resolved to make that the last text, the last contact he had with Sam until his young maybe boyfriend called him, gave him something to hope for. The moment he got home he drained three beers in quick succession before passing out in bed.

On Saturday morning he woke before eight with a gently thrumming hang over and a still blank cell phone. Dean resolved to spend the rest of the day curled up on the couch with a stack of books, losing himself in familiar and comfortable fiction.

-=-=-=-

Sam's fingers were shaking as he fumbled with his phone. It took him a while to flip through his contacts and find Dean's number. He wasn't sure why he didn't think to use the speed dial, he wasn't thinking properly anymore - he'd barely slept and was so tired he could fall asleep standing. He hit send on his phone and waited for the ring.

Dean was in the middle of the scene where Dorian Grey killed Basil Hallward and consequently stabbed the painting of himself so the phone ringing suddenly made him jump. He nearly threw the book to the end of the couch, lunging forward for the device on the coffee table and fumbling for a moment. Taking a deep and shaking breath, Dean allowed himself a moment to get a hold of his control before hitting the call button, "Sam?" he said softly, heart skipping a beat.

"Do you hate me?" Sam's voice was trembling. He couldn't really think of anything that would feel worse, knowing that Dean hated him.

Blowing out a long breath, Dean's voice caught on something between a chuckle and a sob, "No Sam. Of course I don't. I know this is... god it fucking sucks. I get that." He rubbed a hand through his hair, pushing up to his feet and smoothing down his sweat pants.

"You at home? What room are you in? I like to know - 'cause I remember it all - your place I mean. Makes me feel like I’m there." Sam sighed, "it's so cold."

"Living room..." Dean said softly and crossed the hall to the kitchen. "Well, kitchen now. Cold? Where are you? It should be warm now that spring is here," he tried to make his voice sound casual and light, desperate to take them back to that comfortable quality their calls had been between Christmas and Valentine's day.

"Just overtired, always makes me cold. Dean?" Sam's voice felt too small, like he couldn't make it quite big enough for the weight of what he needed to know. "Do you still want to see me?" He held his breath, waiting.

"Of course," Dean leaned against the counter and scratched at his chest absently. "More than anything. Why? Thinking of swinging by?" He forced a chuckle, heart lurching slightly at the thought.

"Could you open the door, maybe?" Sam whispered.

Dean dropped his phone, eyes widening. He didn't even bother picking it up, instead nearly running down the hall and turning the lock swiftly. For a moment he hesitated, taking a deep breath before pulling the door open. "Sam," he gasped as the young man - who had clearly been leaning against the door - fell forward. He reacted just in time to catch him, pulling him up and into his body, arms wrapping tight around him. "God," he whispered, shutting the door with his foot and burying his head into Sam's neck.

Laughing quietly, Sam pulled Dean close so he could run his cold hands over the heat of Dean's bare back. "God, it's like you knew I was gonna be here," he murmured as he brushed his lips across Dean's cheek. "Sorry," he whispered almost at Dean's lips, "I haven't had a shower for, I dunno... a while." Closing his eyes, Sam breathed in the familiar scent and pressed his lips against Dean's softly.

"I really don't care," Dean murmured, hand sliding up to cup the back of Sam's neck, pulling him in to slant his lips over Sam's. It was just like he remembered, soft and silky even if Sam's lips were slightly chapped. His free hand tightened around the small of Sam's back, tugging him closer and holding him there as he kissed Sam like he'd dreamed of doing from the moment he left.

Sam's lips slid against Dean's and he moaned softly into the kiss. It was _way_ better than he remembered which was saying something. Pulling back slightly, Sam blew out a breath. "I really _want_ you but,” he sighed, “we gotta talk." Sam pressed his hand against Dean's chest, fingers moving gently against the bare flesh. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded and stepped back before he could pull Sam into him again. He turned and led Sam to the living room, stopping short of the couch and looking back at him. "You need anything? A coke? Food?" A small, nervous smile lingered on his lips and he shifted in his sweats, body already reacting to having Sam so close.

"No, I'm okay for now, just wanna talk. God my boots," Sam turned quickly and yanked his boots off leaving them by the hallway. "Sorry, I'm pretty tired." Sam padded over to the couch and sat down on the edge, hands coming together, and knuckles whitening. "So, I have something I want to tell you but I - well, yeah."

Dean clung to the hope that Sam wouldn't come all this way to break up with him, that would be ridiculous, so he moved to the couch and dropped down beside Sam. He was itching to be closer but allowed the young man a foot of space, turning slightly to look at him. "You can tell me anything," he said softly, hesitating for a moment before laying his hand on Sam's back.

"I told my Dad about you and me. I wanted him to understand more, I mean. It was okay, I mean," Sam puffed his cheeks out as he exhaled, "it wasn't great and I'd really rather not do it again but yeah. So..." Sam glanced up at Dean's face, "I left him, well, hunting, Dean. The thing is I didn't really think it through. I'm kind of like that - you may have noticed, I don't know. Sometimes, I don't think things through the way I should." Sam looked back down at his hands. "I don't know what I'm gonna do now, I know that I need to get a job or something, be able to support myself." Licking his lips Sam barely paused for a few moments, "I know I can't stay with you - like move in - or anything. I'm not even eighteen for a few more weeks. Could I stay here for a couple of days though?" Sam rubbed at his cheek with the back of his hand. "I have some money for a motel room for a while, but, I'd really like to spend some time with you - if that's okay... you'd better say something now." Sam blinked a few times and looked back up to meet Dean's gaze.

A small frown turned Dean's lips down as he considered the floor for a few minutes before looking back up at Sam. "Wow, I can't imagine how hard that must have been." He smiled sadly at Sam and smoothed a hand down his back in comfort. "So, why can't you move in?" He asked softly, biting down at his lower lip.

"I didn't - I didn't even ask you. I just couldn't stand it anymore. Listening to you on the phone. And..." tears welled up in Sam's eyes. "I was _so_ scared, Dean, that everything would be over before I even had a chance to -" Sam looked away and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket. "I'm sorry," he laughed softly, "I'm really tired. I hitch hiked and walked all the way here. Two states and _way_ too many truckers."

"You don't have to apologize," Dean cringed slightly at the thought of what Sam had been through and reached forward to cup his face, wiping at tears there. "I can't even tell you how glad I am to have you here. I... I want you here with me. We can make it work, I'll help as much as you'll let me," he smiled softly and slid his hand up to brush slightly dirty hair from Sam's brow. "We can figure all this stuff out, but how about we get you a shower first and a nap. Then we'll take things from there?"

"I knew you thought I smelled bad," Sam sniffed and turned slightly on the couch so he could see Dean's face. "So, things are gonna be okay right?" For three days Sam had been worried sick that he'd arrive on Dean's doorstep only to find out that Dean had moved on, or given up on him. "I didn't answer your calls, I was worried you might tell me not to come." Sam looked back up at Dean's face. The man looked remarkably happy and it made Sam smile.

"Well I probably would have dropped everything and come and got you," Dean chuckled softly and pulled Sam forward to brush their lips together. "And yeah Sam, we are okay. Better than," he murmured against his lips and pulled back slightly. "I love you," he breathed, wanting to see Sam's face the first time he said the words to him in person. His heart quickened slightly and he couldn't resist grinning.

Pressing his lips together didn't hide Sam's grin. "Say it again," he said, sitting back from Dean a little and sliding his fingers over Dean’s cheek.

Dean chuckled and leaned into Sam's touch. "I love you." It felt oddly thrilling to say the words and he reached out to lay his hand on the middle of Sam's thigh.

Sam liked the way it sounded, he'd liked it over the phone but more than that, watching Dean's face as he said it was pretty _damn_ perfect. "S'easier to believe when I can see your eyes." Sam's thumb moved slowly over the corner of Dean's mouth, "I love you _so_ much, Dean."

Dean's heart leaped at the words and his face split into a wide grin. "That's - yeah. I'm really gonna like hearing you say that," he turned his head slightly to brush his lips over Sam's thumb. "This is really good Sam. Despite everything."

"You mean the way I smell?" Sam laughed and pushed up off the couch, "you promised me a shower, I'm gonna-" he gestured down the hallway. "I don't suppose you'd consider, getting yourself pretty naked and meeting me in your bed afterward. You know," he held up his hands innocently, "for napping purposes." He smiled as he started to back across the room toward the bathroom.

Heat bubbled along Dean’s veins as he thought about the last time Sam had showered at his place, "Uh yeah, I could do that." He smiled and pushed up from the couch. "I'll be waiting so don't take too long." Dean chuckled, eyes fixed on Sam's body as he moved back.

Sam bumped into the wall and turned slowly, not wanting to tear his eyes off Dean's ... well, everything. "I'll be fast." Turning quickly Sam was in the bathroom in a few seconds flat.

The moment the door closed Dean turned around and headed for the kitchen. His hands shook slightly as he bent down and snatched his cell phone from the floor, starting up a text message.

 **Dean:** _Sam's here. Leave us alone for awhile :)_

He grinned as he headed back down the hall, stopping as his phone dinged in his hand.

 **Ashley:** _YAY! Call me later with 411_

Dean held the end button on his phone until it turned off, tossing it toward the couch and heading to his bedroom. For a moment he hesitated by the bathroom door, listening to the shower run before moving inside his room. He walked quickly around the room, picking up laundry he'd forgotten to put in the basket, straightening items out on his desk. Dean tugged his curtain closed to darken the room before slipping off his sweat pants and tossing them at his laundry basket.

It seemed almost surreal, that Sam was here and in his shower, _naked_. Heat flared through him once more but Dean willed it down as he slid in between the sheets. Sam was probably too tired for anything. Maybe some kissing. Maybe Dean could talk him into a quick blow job. A small grin lifted his lips as he rolled back on the mattress, propping his head up on his arm to stare at the door.

It was only about ten minutes before Sam was slinging a towel around his waist and heading across the hall, hoping that Dean would be in bed already. He wasn't disappointed. "So," he said shyly as he walked in the bedroom and met Dean's gaze almost immediately, "I've been workin' out for you, can you tell?" He stood at the door and shuffled his feet nervously.

Blinking a few times, Dean could feel his jaw drop slightly as his eyes traced over the curve of Sam's muscles, thicker along his arms, more defined over his abs. "Jesus," he murmured, the heat from before surging forward with a force. "Uh yeah, I can... tell," he wet his lips and dragged his eyes up from Sam's abs to his eyes. "You should come over here now."

Pulling the towel off his waist Sam rubbed it over his hair, shook his head and walked over to climb into bed. "Oh God, I think I'm going to die of comfort." Sam spread out on the bed, arms and legs everywhere, _more_ than happy about his arm landing over Dean's ribcage.

Dean smiled softly and curled into Sam's side, head dipping down to press his lips into smooth, slightly damp skin. "You have to be exhausted," he whispered, slipping his arm over Sam's and laying his fingers flat against Sam's chest, rubbing in slow circles. Dean couldn't resist dragging his eyes up the full length of Sam's body, wetting his lips once more.

Rolling forward Sam dipped his head down so he could brush his lips against Dean's. "I've waited a long time for that," he murmured. Pushing Dean back down onto the bed Sam dragged his hands over the curves of Dean's chest, smiling, head tilted slightly to the side. He leaned down, kissing his way down the center of his lover's chest, licking the water droplets that fell onto Dean from his hair. "I like that," he murmured against Dean's nipple; he loved the way the flesh hardened under his mouth.

Gasping softly, Dean arched his back slightly up into Sam's mouth, heat coursing through him. "Sam," he murmured and lifted his hand to curve around his young lover's neck, massaging gently. "Your lips are so warm," he whispered and massaged gently. "Kiss me," he insisted, smiling as he remembered Sam saying the same thing last time they were together like this.

Stretching out his body along Dean's Sam let his tongue run along the other man's bottom lip. "You still taste good," he mumbled, lapping up the shower water that was dripping onto Dean's lips. Planting his hands on either side of Dean's neck he pushed up so his body was barely touching Dean's. Dragging his tongue along Dean's lips, he blew on them gently then slanted his mouth over Dean's and let himself sink down on his lover's body.

Dean moaned into the kiss softly and wrapped his arms around Sam tightly, pulling him flush against his body and snaking his tongue forward. He gasped into the kiss, needing to take in as much of Sam's taste as he could manage. Dean breathed deeply through his nose inhaling Sam's distinct scent that he'd never been able to remember quite right. "God you feel better against me then I remembered," he murmured into the kiss, fingers splaying across the small of Sam's back and pressing their bodies together.

"MMhhmmm," Sam slid down a little, "obviously my imagination was in need of an update too." Crawling down Dean's body, Sam brushed his lips everywhere he could reach; a trail down Dean's ribs, over the fluttering muscles of his stomach, then over the tender skin of his hip. He loved the way that Dean moved, his skin was warm and smooth under Sam's lips. Slipping to the side Sam reached a long arm down to trail his fingers up over Dean's knee, his thigh and straight up over the tender flesh of his hardness.

"Jesus," Dean gasped once more, body curving up now into Sam's touches. He certainly hadn't planned on Sam being the one impatient to feel something tangible between them but he definitely didn't mind letting Sam take control. "You gonna," he breathed, fingers sliding into Sam's damp hair, "suck my cock now?" He asked with a faint smirk, lifting his head to peer down at Sam.

Laughing softly, Sam glanced up into those green eyes he'd been unable to forget for a moment. He winked and turned quickly sinking his damp lips over the head of Dean's cock, swallowing once and sliding his mouth down over the hard shaft. Swirling his tongue slowly, exploring, _tasting_ Dean; Sam dragged his lips back up slowly until he was just lapping at the slit, sucking up the beads of come. "Mmmhmmm," he sighed and sucked gently.

Sparks seemed to flash across Dean's eyes as his closed them tightly, sucking in a quick breath. The heat of Sam's mouth was already driving him crazy, better than all the times he'd imagined it. "Sam," he moaned, body rolling up into Sam's mouth in attempt to get Sam to take more of him in. He let both hands settle in Sam's hair, resting and occasionally tightening when he felt the urge to just hold Sam down.

Moaning against Dean's rigid flesh Sam shifted up a little digging his fingers into the sensitive flesh just below Dean's hip. Resting his cheek on Dean's stomach he curled his fingers round the base of his cock slipping them up to his lips then back down again.

Sucking and tonguing the crown, the head, slipping the tip of his tongue in the slit - Sam moved his hand slowly, feeling Dean start to writhe and twist beneath him. The muscles in Dean's stomach were quivering against Sam's cheek and he groaned. It was _too_ much, the musky scent of Dean, the smooth heat of his flesh. Sam leaned down and sank his mouth down over Dean's cock, sucking him down as far as he could.

" _Fuck_ ," Dean gasped and jerked forward, head rolling back into the pillow as his fingers clenched in Sam's hair tightly. "Sam, so good..." he groaned, biting down hard on his bottom lip. Grabbing the nearest pillow, Dean tucked it under his head so he could peer down at Sam's head moving over him, heart racing heavy and hard in his chest. He wasn't going to last very long but at this point it didn't matter. They had their whole lives spread out before them.

Hollowing his cheeks Sam sucked hard then pulled back, sliding his fist over Dean's slick cock. He moved quickly, wet lips gliding over Dean's heat, sucking, licking, fingers working the same flesh. _God_ he'd missed it, the taste and feel of Dean everywhere. Sliding his free hand up Dean's body, over his chest he let his fingers move up Dean's neck to his lips.

"Sam, m'not gonna..." Dean murmured and arched up into Sam's mouth once more. He tugged on Sam's hair, giving him a final notice before his heels were digging into the mattress, shoving his body up as his orgasm ripped through him, loud moan falling from his lips. His muscles tensed as hot jets flashed across his veins until he dropped down on the mattress, panting heavily.

The taste of Dean slid over Sam's tongue as his cock pulsed warm and hard. Sam moaned, swallowing the hot release, sucking hard, and then gently working every drop from Dean. Letting himself fall back onto Dean's stomach, Sam pulled away gently until Dean's cock slipped from his mouth. Sam brushed his lips gently against the sensitive head and moaned, leaned back and crawled up Dean's side collapsing across him. "Okay," he panted softly, " _that_ was well worth using all my remaining energy on." Sam smiled sleepily and looked up at Dean's face, " _fuck_ , I forgot how gorgeous you are."

Dean mumbled something incoherently and shook his head, "damn, that was so..." he smiled softly and tugged Sam into him, slanting their lips together and kissing him roughly, tongue thrusting forward. He mapped the taste of himself along Sam's mouth before pushing him back gently, sliding his body over Sam's. "Got enough energy to stay awake while I return the favour?" He murmured, hand trailing down Sam' body.

Sam moaned quietly, "I .. I find it hard to believe," Sam gasped in a breath of air, "that I could sleep with your lips _anywhere_ on me." He ran his hands up over Dean's back, gripping on tightly.

Chuckling softly, Dean began a trail of long kisses down Sam's body, crawling between his legs until his lips finally reached Sam's hipbones. "Dreamed about this," he murmured, sucking softly on the curve of Sam's hip, fingers coming up to wrap around Sam's hard flesh and stroke up. His heart quickened once more in his chest and he thought if he were younger he might actually be feeling the beginnings of arousal again. A small smile formed on his lips as he kissed across Sam's body, nuzzling along the curls before sucking kisses along his lover's balls, rolling the flesh in his mouth.

Sam's back arched up off the bed as the breath left his lungs. Closing his eyes he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and rolled his hips up into Dean's touch. He reached up above his head grabbing on to the headboard, fingers curling around the bars, "Dean," he murmured, " _God_ , Dean" Sam's heart was beating like mad, loud in his ears.

The sound of Sam moaning his name would always do things for Dean, he'd known it before and now it echoed through him, a million times better and making him shudder slightly. With a soft moan he moved up, dragging the flat of his tongue along the underside of Sam's cock, swirling around the crown and dipping into the slit to gather pre-come. His eyes shot up to Sam's flushed body, watching the arching of him as his mouth pulled the tip in, sucking softly and sliding down. Relaxing his jaw he savoured the slide of flesh over his tongue, filling his mouth as he took as much as he could and hollowed his cheeks to suck firmer.

Fire raced through Sam's body and he turned his face into his arm, heaving in a deep breath. The muscles in his thighs were shuddering as he sank into the heat of Dean’s mouth. Something far too like a whimper left Sam’s mouth and he smiled even as he bit down harder on his bottom lip. His hips jumped up toward Dean's mouth; he could barely resist thrusting and strained to hold still, shaking, keening softly against his arm.

Dean hummed around the flesh in his mouth, beginning a gentle bob that ended in his tongue flicking out along the sensitive head. His fingers curled around Sam's hipbones, holding him down into the mattress firmly as his mouth sank back down. Dean took his time licking and relearning the taste of Sam, enjoying the way it sparked across his taste buds and just made him want more. Letting his mouth relax even further, he sucked Sam all the way in until the tip brushed along the back of his throat. Pulling back he blew over the spit covered flesh, wetting his lips before bringing him in once more.

"Oh my...." Sam's chest heaved up off the bed, " _fuck_." Every time he thought he'd felt the best he couldn't, something so intense he could barely breathe, Dean did something else. Dean's mouth was never in one place long enough, constantly moving, his tongue was perfect - everywhere. "Dean, please," Sam was pretty sure he wasn't asking _for_ anything. He was wondering if he should be moaning thank you and then his cock was _so_ far in Dean's wet heat it felt like Sam would just stop breathing.

Moaning along the hard flesh, Dean sucked harder, urging Sam forward. His hand on Sam's hip bone slid down under his chin to work along the sac of flesh, rolling it between his fingers slowly then pressing in as his mouth slid up. Dean circled his tongue slowly along Sam's length, mapping the skin and releasing small puffs of hot air. "God Sam," he murmured and flicked his tongue over the slit, "you're so fucking hot like this." He sucked Sam in once more, pulling him all the way and rolling his tongue along the base of his cock.

Maybe it was the words or the low rumble of Dean's voice so close to his cock. Maybe it was the way Dean's tongue moved along his rigid flesh like he was devouring him one lick at a time. His desire was so built up within him Sam could almost feel it vibrating along his skin. "Dean I can't." He twisted his chest sideways, hips anchored to the bed by Dean's strong hands. Growling, sucking in air like he was drowning Sam's hips jolted under his lover's fingers and his orgasm slammed into him, knocking him back against the mattress. He cried out Dean's name, hand reaching down to slide across the back of Dean's neck as he came, wave after wave of desire flooding through him.

Dean pulled back enough to let the taste of Sam's come lay thick and heavy over his tongue. He drank down everything Sam had to offer expertly, sucking the flesh until Sam's body molded down into the mattress and he grew soft in Dean's mouth. Lifting his head, Dean smiled at Sam softly before dropping a kiss to his hipbone and crawling up his body, settling in beside him. "Fucking amazing," he murmured, fingers massaging the side of Sam's neck.

Arms flopping out to the side Sam moaned, "m'dead." Sam tried to roll toward Dean, gave up and just looked at him as he yawned, "in the best," he kissed the end of Dean's nose, "kind of dead way."

Chuckling softly Dean nodded and pushed Sam onto his side away from him, tugging the blankets up and sliding in to curve along his back. Once he'd settled an arm around his chest and pulled him in close, Dean sighed and gently nuzzled the back of Sam's neck, pressing a small kiss to his back. "Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up. Then I can show you some of the other best ways to be dead."

Smiling, Sam slipped his arm over Dean's, "just don't leave," he murmured, "wait...s'your place." He laughed softly, eyes closing.

With a warm smile Dean shifted forward to place a kiss on Sam's cheek. "Love you," he murmured to the already asleep man before settling back down and letting his own eyes close.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam kept thinking for days that he would move to a Motel, just to be fair to Dean. It seemed like the right thing to do, try and establish his independence a little. He thought it for weeks until he realized he was settling in and Dean had given him half the bedroom closet and two drawers in the dresser. It seemed rude to move into a Motel room now that Dean had taken some of his clothes to good-will so they had enough room to hang everything. There was the closet thing, and the fact that Sam found himself sitting around sometimes and smiling; he would be smiling for no reason at all. Well, Dean was the reason. Sam was happy. He was happy and loved and felt like he belonged. Sam was _finally_ right where he belonged, with Dean.

After a few weeks of avoiding the issue, Sam hated confrontation, he called his Dad. It wasn't as bad as he'd thought. John had certainly calmed down, and yes, he missed his son a great deal. But, John was also happy that Sam had found someone to spend his life with. He assured Sam that as messed up as his focus had been sometimes, as a Father, he wanted his son to be happy. John even suggested that he swing by and meet Dean sometime when he was in their part of the country. Dean's face had blanched when Sam told him that, and Sam was pretty sure he'd seen Dean shiver when he'd assured him he'd get his Dad to leave all his guns in the car.

Having Sam at his house, waiting for him, made it a lot easier to get through the days at work. The school year was rapidly approaching its end and Dean was looking forward to spending days lounging with Sam, showing him around the town and setting things up. It pleased him that Sam had seemed to accept the idea of living with him and even the other teachers in the school noticed the bounce in his step, though he refused to comment on it. He'd told his family about Sam's reappearance as a permanent fixture in his life and his mother was so excited he had to practically scream at her to convince her not to drive down right away to meet him. Dean reassured them that the time would come but they needed to be a bit more settled first before he unleashed the whole Johnson clan on his poor Sam.

Dean began bringing home the newspaper from the school library, allowing Sam to browse through the classifieds for jobs that might be appealing to him. Dean didn't make that much as a teacher but he'd always been a careful spender and had worked his way through college so he didn't have to worry about things like student loans. For now it worked for him to be the only one employed but Dean had forgotten the appetite of a still growing teenager - almost adult as Sam reminded him whenever he teased him - and he knew they'd both have to get summer jobs at least to make things work. Dean didn't mind, if Sam was going to be working he'd need something to pass the hours anyway. And he still suggested, quite often, that Sam should get his GED as it would make finding a job a hell of a lot easier.

Sam managed to find a job at a local market that sold health food. The people were a lot of fun, the pay was really decent and Sam got a discount on food. The food thing was a big help and Sam felt like he was actually contributing to their home when he came through the door at night with a bag of food in each hand. Sam enjoyed the walk to work, even when the mornings were still cool. The one thing that Sam would miss about spring  
was being able to chase Dean around the apartment when he got home, trying to get his hands under Dean's shirt to warm them up. Dean pretty much always gave in, especially if Sam just happened to whine that _if Dean loved him he'd let him warm his hands._

Things were good and peaceful and Sam was seriously considering the whole GED thing although the thought of going _back to school_ in any way, shape or form kind of made him squeamish. The way Sam had spent the first part of his life, hunting, researching, kind of made him feel like he had put in his time. It seemed important to Dean though, and that was reason enough for Sam to look into it.

As school finally wrapped up for the year Dean caved and called the owner of the locally owned book store in town that he happened to be good friends with. The man was more than happy to let Dean join on as staff, saying that Dean knew more about books then even he did. Though Dean doubted it, he liked the idea of this type of job. Plus the man was flexible and he could arrange his shift around Sam's easily. Because they were both with jobs, the time seemed to fly by even faster. Any moment not working was spent learning the inner workings of each other. Dean found out that sometimes Sam would get overly aggravated with something, especially if Dean accidentally slipped into his teacher mode. And on more than one occasion Dean found himself semi-lecturing Sam about keeping the place clean. If he was a bit of neat freak then it really couldn't be helped.

Dean knew that nearly all good relationships had those negative bits to them though and any time they'd fight, he learned that make up sex was _amazing_ and it made it the little annoying habits okay. They got along best where it mattered most, clicking together in a way that told Dean they really were meant to be. He'd never intended to find someone so much younger than him to spend his life with but Sam made it easy to forget the age gap. He stepped into the role of an adult easily, surprising Dean with his ability to see so many things with a clear head.

Halfway through the month of June Dean could no longer put off the subject of Sam meeting his family. Every time he spoke with one of them it was always _when will we meet Sam_ or _how about you come up here and bring Sam for us to meet?_ Dean was glad his family was so supportive but Sam meant more to him then they could ever know and it was a really big deal. The topic was no longer avoidable though so on a Friday night after work and dinner, dishes washing in the machine, Dean dropped beside his lover on the couch and sighed softly. "Well, I think it's inevitable Sam," he said softly and glanced at him with a nervous smile. "You're going to have to meet my family."

"Okay," Sam continued flipping through the magazine he was reading, slight smile on his face.

"They've been practically begging and pleading so..." Dean rubbed at a spot along the side of his face and shrugged. "I said we'd come up there for the fourth. We normal have a barbecue, watch fireworks at the lake. Is that okay?"

"Okay," Sam tossed the magazine down on the table and beamed at Dean. "Dean? I said okay twice. We staying over? I have one rule." Sam turned to lean against the arm of the chair so he could kick his feet up into Dean's lap. He was nervous about meeting Dean's family; he knew how much they meant to Dean. But ... how bad could they be? They raised Dean.

"Okay," Dean repeated slowly and nodded, hands falling to Sam's feet and massaging softly. "What's your one rule?"

"I get to hold your hand in front of them." Sam shrugged and smiled, "oh and if we stay over we get to sleep together. I guess I have two rules." Sam looked down at his hands for a few moments, "Dean... do they know much about me? I mean ... what I did?"

Dean smiled warmly at his boyfriend and shifted his hands up to rub along Sam's calves. "I left it really vague. Said you worked with a partner, traveled around the country helping people. I doubt they'll pester you more on it but if they do you are more than welcome to say it was a private practice and that you can't give out many details." Still smiling softly Dean tugged on Sam's legs to get him to shift forward more. "Thank you for doing this Sam. It... it means a lot to me. That you meet them."

"I know it does. Dean, I've only got my Dad - it can't hurt for me to have a little more family around right?" Rolling off the couch Sam moved to stand in front of Dean and slid onto his lap, tucking his knees close to Dean's hips and squeezing. "I love you. They're your family. So..." Sam shifted closer and slid his hands up the front of Dean's t-shirt then around his neck, "you think they'll like me?"

Tilting his head up to gaze into Sam's eyes, Dean smiled and wrapped his arms around Sam's waist. "I think they'll love you. It's pretty much impossible not to," he beamed at him and pressed his hands into Sam's back, bringing him down to brush their lips together. "And to answer your question, we are staying the night and yes, we'll share a room. Oh and you better hold my hand as well as allow me to kiss you as much as I like," he chuckled softly, dipping his head to brush his lips along Sam's neck.

"Okay," Sam let his head fall back so Dean's lips could travel further along his throat. "Does that mean we're gonna have sex at your parents house?" Sam laughed and slipped his hands up through Dean's hair. "Kinky..." Sam couldn't stop smiling, for some reason, the idea of going back to Dean's childhood home and being able to touch him, man, sometimes Sam thought he really _was_ a bit twisted.

Dean moaned against the flesh of Sam's neck and sucked low enough on his collar bone that his work shirt would cover it. "You know," he said softly and pressed a hand harder against the small of Sam's back before dipping his fingers beneath the waist band. "I've never had sex with anyone in my old bedroom," he kissed a path up to Sam's ear, sucking on the lobe before continuing; "it'd be pretty fuckin' hot. Having to be all quiet so no one would hear. You'd have to ride my cock; otherwise we'd make the bed squeak." His tongue flicked along Sam's ear lobe before his lips kissed a path back down his neck.

Sam's body was tingling, pretty much everywhere, "are you _trying_ to kill me?" His hands snaked down between them, tugging on Dean's button and zipper, one hand slipping down under his boxers. "This," he murmured, "for me?" His hips rolled forward, pushing into his own hand, his fingers tightening on Dean's hard-on. "You gotta go anywhere?" Sam's voice was thick and gruff.

"No," Dean breathed and shifted underneath him, "want you..." he murmured and let his head fall back, eyes scanning along Sam's flushed skin, hand slipping round to work at Sam's button. "Should practice. The riding my cock thing," he smirked slightly and slid his palm under Sam's shirt pushing up enough to graze his fingers along Sam's gently sculpted abs, over his nipples.

"I hardly," Sam tucked his fingers under the hem of Dean's shirt and pull it up and off then tossed it aside, "need practice." Sliding back off Dean's lap Sam stood up, fingers un-doing his button and zipper. Sliding his hands under the material, over his hips he pushed his jeans down. Stepping out of them Sam wriggled out of his work shirt and threw it at Dean. "You're still wearing jeans..." Sam shook his head sadly.

Pulling himself from the distraction of watching the naked form of his lover, Dean tugged the zipper the rest of the way down before hook his hands around his clothing and lifting his hips. "Gonna need some lube," he muttered a little lust blown already. Sam's eagerness and youth was slightly intoxicating. It wasn't like Dean was _old_ but he'd forgotten what it was like to experience something as new. And the idea of Sam riding his cock while he sat on the sofa was enough to have his fingers curling around the base of the hard flesh, squeezing tightly before stroking up once.

"Don't finish without me," Sam padded down the hallway to the bedroom, grabbed the lube off the nightstand and wandered back down the hallway. "Here ya go," he tossed the bottle to Dean and wandered back to the front of the couch where Dean was sitting. Licking his lips slowly, Sam kneeled back over Dean and started stroking his own cock with one hand and curled the other hand over Dean's shoulder. "You gonna put..." he moaned, "that lube on?"

"Fuck," Dean moaned, eyes riveted on the stroke of Sam's fingers over his hard length. Sometimes it seemed like Sam just oozed pure sex and Dean wondered how they ever managed to get out of bed. "Yeah," he snatched up the bottle and applied a generous amount to his palm, stroking it over himself in a matching pace to the glide of Sam's hand on himself. Shifting back on the couch slightly, Dean reached out for Sam's work shirt, which had previously been thrown at him, and cleaned the remaining lube off, small smirk on his lips. "So do you even need any prep or are you just gonna take me?" He gazed back up at Sam with dark eyes, rolling his hips up slightly.

Sam leaned down and took Dean's mouth, forcing his tongue past Dean's lips. "Slide down a little," he mumbled, pushing on Dean's shoulders gently. As soon as Dean moved Sam moaned, Dean’s slick cock rubbed along the underside of Sam's and heat shot through his body. Reaching down behind him, arching his back Sam kneeled up so he could rub the head of Dean's cock against his tight ring of muscle. "That what you want?"

Hips arching up into the touch, Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's back, urging him down, "Fuck yes Sam." The words were practically growled and Dean's eyes fluttered as the head slid around the entrance, Sam rolling his hips so teasingly it shot through him like fire. "Do it," he murmured, fingers digging in Sam's back, not caring if he was begging. "Wanna feel you surrounding me."

Sam's muscles were aching and he sank lower, trembling with the effort it took to go so slowly. He loved the way the head of Dean's cock stretched him out, made him burn just a little before the pleasure started to roll over him. Curling the fingers of both hands over Dean's shoulders Sam eased himself down, slowly sinking closer and closer to Dean. Dean's fingers were gripping him so hard Sam knew there would be bruises. A shudder ran straight down his body and he collapsed forward, taking all of Dean, panting against Dean's neck.

There was no feeling comparable to the one of being buried deep in Sam. Having him on his lap like this only served to heighten the pleasure. "Sam..." he moaned slowly, hips rolling under Sam's weight. There was no room for him to take control of this situation and that sent an odd thrill working through him. He tugged on Sam's hair until their lips were sliding together, tongue snaking forward to circle around the familiar curves of Sam's mouth. "Love you," he murmured into the kiss and tried to arch up. "Now move," he chuckled roughly and palmed his hands down Sam's body.

Laughing softly Sam leaned forward so he could whisper against Dean's ear, "you're even bossy when _I'm_ on top." Sitting back, Sam groaned and let his hands drag down Dean's chest, stopping to catch both nipples and pinch them hard. "You gonna," Sam twisted his hips from side to side; "make me do all the work?" He rocked forward then back, watching Dean's face as he started to work his lover's cock. "Kiss me," Sam murmured as he fell forward again, pressing himself to Dean's chest, rocking his hips slowly.

The words sent a shiver down Dean's spine. It always was that way, whenever Sam demanded to be kissed or he demanded Sam to kiss him. He wet his lips with a slow drag of his tongue before tilting his head up and slanting his mouth over Sam's, sliding the lips slowly together. Dean let his fingers curl around Sam's hipbones, arms tensing as he lifted his lover up and control the gentle slide of him back down. A long moan fell into the kiss - though Dean really didn't know who had made it - and he repeated the action, hands locking like a vice over Sam's body.

As soon as he sank all the way down on Dean's cock Sam pushed up onto his knees. He rose up until only the head was inside him, wrapping his arms around his lover and pulling him close, curling his body around Dean's. Shoulders curling forward, Sam crushed their lips together as he eased back down once more. Lips parted by a gasp of pleasure, he leaned back into Dean's arms, locking his eyes with his lover's. " _God_ ," he murmured as Dean filled him up again, hot and _always_ better than he remembered.

There was hardly any color left in Sam's eyes, just lust blown black, and Dean stared up into the gaze through soft pants. Sam was already driving him insane, the way his body arched and moved over his, pulling him in with each slid down. "Sam..." he moaned, hips jerking up in an attempt to quicken the pace. Dean was continuously surprised at just how fucking incredible it felt to be connected to Sam in this way. Legs tightened around his sides and Dean pulled at Sam's hips with rough fingers.

"Love you," Sam murmured, throwing his head back. Using Dean's shoulders for leverage, Sam moved faster, long slides of his body, hips canted forward. Rocking back and forth, Sam closed his eyes, panting with the effort. Finally, angled just right, Dean's cock slid against the bundle of nerves that always sent Sam teetering so close to the edge. He collapsed forward again, circling his hips as his body shivered with pleasure.

Body humming with pleasure, Dean let his fingers slide over every inch of Sam's body that he could reach. He began a steady and familiar mantra of Sam's name, hips circling in motion with Sam's above him. After a few minutes Dean slid his arm around, fingers curling around Sam's hard length and dragging slowly up, squeezing as he slid down. "Jesus," Dean moaned as Sam clenched around him. Arching up, Dean nudged against Sam until he could brush their lips together.

Sam loved those moments. Dean was all over him, lips, chest, hands and flesh connected everywhere. It still, made every single moment they spent apart _so_ worth it. It was insane, sensation everywhere. Sam thrust his hips forward, sliding his cock through Dean's grip. He lowered himself down on Dean, loving the fullness and heat. Whenever he could reach, his lips over Dean's, tongue tangling and sliding wet and slick past each other's. Head falling to the side, Sam moaned loudly as he arched his spine and leaned back, hands on Dean's thighs.

Dean's free hand pressed firmly into Sam's abs, sliding up the beautifully arched body above his. His chest shook slightly with the heavy breaths he was pulling in, body humming and tingling from the slide of Sam's flesh over his. His fingers on Sam quickened as the press of his orgasm heightened. "Fuck Sam it's..." he gasped as Sam moved almost expertly above him, like he knew just when to shift, when to clench, to make the pleasure spark through him. The hand on Sam's chest curved around to his back, nails dragging along the skin before dipping down into the curve, fingers grazing over the top of Sam's ass, controlling another slid down.

Waves of heat rushed down Sam's spine, growling softly he left his head fall back and stretched his body back long and stretched out. Falling forward, almost drained, Sam moaned into Dean's neck. Cock sliding hot between them, trapped against Dean's stomach. His lips moved over Dean's face, cheeks, jaw, back to his lips. Sam bit and tugged on Dean's bottom lip, hips rocking faster as his orgasm bloomed up inside him. Moaning into his lover's mouth Sam's body moved in waves, arching, curving back, sliding.

The way Sam moved over him was too much for Dean to handle and heat soared through him in intense waves, body shifting restlessly beneath Sam. "M'gonna..." he gasped as Sam's lips slid over his skin. Everything drew up in him and Dean moaned his lover's name, low in the back of throat as his orgasm tore through him. His head sank back into the couch cushion, fingers curling into Sam's flesh.

" _God_ , D...ean," Sam rode Dean through his orgasm, feeling every pulse of heat, every throb of Dean's hard flesh. The feel, the sensation - _Jesus_ , watching Dean come, seeing his face blissed out and flushed sent Sam careening over the edge of his pleasure. Coming hard, fast, shooting hot and wet up Dean's chest Sam fell against his lover. Hips still circling slowly Sam latched on to Dean's neck, tongue lapping up the salty sweat. Moaning softly, Sam heaved in a breath.

Dean looped his arms around Sam's back and held him close, panting softly as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. "Jesus Sam..." he murmured, head falling to the side to give Sam access to his neck. "Love you," he murmured, never growing tired of saying it. He could tell Sam that every minute of every day and never get tired of saying it. Just like he sometimes woke in the middle of the night and just stared at Sam, marveling at the fact that he was _his_. Dean's arms tightened as he swallowed thickly.

Sam shifted up slightly then fell to the side, leg draped across Dean's lap. He rested his head on Dean's shoulder, watching him with wide eyes. "You... still glad I moved here?" Sam smiled and traced a finger along Dean's lips.

"Duh," Dean chuckled and reached out, cupping Sam's jaw and rubbing his fingers softly along the skin. "More than glad. Was it worth it?"

"You? Were you worth it?" Sam leaned in to press a gentle kiss at the corner of Dean's mouth, "I can't imagine not being with you." Sam's chest tightened even as he said it, the way he'd felt so lonely before without Dean was awful. There were times when Sam had felt so hopeless, wondering if they'd ever manage to be together other than for one weekend. And ... here he was. "Even though you nag me sometimes, I wouldn't trade a moment of it."

"Mm," Dean murmured, eyes sliding closed as he soaked in the enjoyment of the moment. "Yeah, now if only I could train you to pick up after yourself."

"If I was perfect," Sam flicked his finger over the end of Dean's nose, "you'd have nothing left to look forward to as we grow old and gray together." Smiling, he eased himself back a little. "I should shower," he pushed up off the couch and stretched his arms up over his head. "You should probably shower too," he grinned over his shoulder as he padded down the hallway.

Smirking softly, Dean nodded and pushed up, crowding into his space. "Yeah, I should definitely shower."

-=-=-=-

It took them just over an hour to get to Dean's family's house and by the time they pulled up, everyone was already there. Both his sister and brother lived in the same city as his parents so he wasn't that surprised. It didn't stop the swell of nerves though, but it was probably best for Sam to just get it over with. Like tearing off a band aid. Meeting all of Dean's family at once. Turning to Sam with a warm smile he said. "So my brother Michael is the oldest, his wife is Nicole. Then Ashley and her husband Nicolas. Yeah I know, the Nic thing is a constant joke. Ash and Nick have two little boys. Michael and Nicole had a girl and a boy and a baby on the way. Got it?" He beamed at Sam, reaching up to smooth down hair that had been messed up along the drive.

Laughing softly Sam batted Dean's hand away and messed his hair up again, "it's my disheveled and sweet look ... don't ruin it." Leaning in Sam pulled Dean in close and kissed him. "Dean, everything's going to be fine. Stop fussin'." He grinned and rubbed his nose against the older man's.

"Love you," Dean murmured, hand cupping along Sam's neck and pulling him in for a full kiss, dragging Sam's bottom lip out with his teeth as he pulled back. "Okay, let's do this," he sighed heavily and pushed open the driver's door.

Sam was a little nervous, it wasn't every day he met his lover's family. All at once. _Every_ single one of them at the same time. Taking a few deep breaths as he followed Dean up the sidewalk Sam tried to calm himself. Dean was more than high strung enough for both of them. Sam was starting to wonder if Dean was worried what his family would do to him or what Sam would do to his family. Smiling Sam reached out and slid his fingers through Dean's, holding on tight.

Dean took a moment to steady himself as they stopped in front of the door, glancing over at Sam and smiling before knocking with his free hand and pushed the door open. "Hello!" He called, stopping to let Sam close the door behind him before leading him down the hall and toward the backyard where his family was likely waiting. "We're here," he said as they stepped out back, face lighting up at seeing his family.

"Dean!" His mom called excitedly and made it across the backyard before anyone else. She pulled Dean into her arms, holding him tight for a moment before stepping back and turning to Sam. "And you must be Sam. It's so nice to finally meet you!" She beamed at Sam before stepping forward and throwing her arms around him.

"Hello Ma'am, it's really nice to meet you," Sam smiled and gave her a warm hug. She smelled like a mama should smell and it made Sam's eyes well up a little to be so warmly welcomed. Pulling back he glanced over at Dean, wanting to make sure he hadn't gone very far.

Dean grinned as his father stepped forward to shake Sam's hand roughly, clapping him on the shoulder, followed by his brother and brother-in-law. Sam was surrounded by the group, shaking hands and getting hugs, people talking over and around each other. Dean laughed for a few minutes before finally pushing his way through to curl his arm around Sam's waist, "god you guys are like a pack of hungry lions, give my Sam some room to breathe."

Ashley and Nicole cooed at each other, his mom joining in a moment later. " _Your_ Sam! How cute!"

"We wanna hear all about you," his mom insisted, reaching out for him.

Dean batted her arm off playfully, shaking his head. "Okay we _just_ got here. We're going to bring our bags in and take a moment to freshen up-" Dean reached out to smack Michael on the back of the head when he rolled his eyes. "So give us a few minutes okay? Then you guys can grill Sam about whatever you'd like." He grinned at Sam and tugged him back from the group.

Sam followed along behind Dean silently, more than a little surprised by the swell of emotion he was trying to deal with. By the time they got to Dean's room Sam's eyes were watery and he didn't even wait until the door was closed to press up against Dean's body and burrowed into his neck.

"Hey," Dean said softly, arms wrapping around him and stroking his back in soothing circles. "It's okay." He had a pretty good guess what had sent Sam into this mood. Though they'd only briefly discussed it, Dean knew Sam's mother had died when he was just a baby and the only connect he had was a father who wasn't always the best with affection, despite how much he might have loved him. And Dean was fully aware just how overwhelming his family could be. "I know, they're a little too much sometimes," he chuckled softly, holding Sam tight against him.

"They're sweet..." Sam took a few calming breaths, nose buried in the scent of his lover. "I'm sorry, just a little ... I didn't realize what it would feel like. It's not bad - I'm just..." Sam stepped back slight so he could look into Dean's eyes, "I'm _really_ lucky." Kissing Dean's lips softly Sam smiled and laughed softly at himself. "I love you... and now I'm maybe gonna have a family too." Looking down at Dean's shoulder, Sam closed his eyes for a few moments, "do you think maybe we could bring my Dad here one day? I mean not now, maybe not even for a long time? But... maybe?" He looked back up at Dean, eyes wide and glassy and filled with love.

Dean smiled softly and cupped Sam's jaw on both sides, sliding his thumbs over his cheeks. "I think that would be nice. One big family get together. Maybe we'll have something special to bring them all together one day," he brought Sam forward to brush their lips together. "I love you too," he murmured into the kiss before sealing his lips completely over Sam's. They kissed slowly and soft for several long minutes before Dean pulled back, sliding his hands down Sam's neck and over his chest. "Okay, we better get back out there before they come hunt us down. You ready for the inquisition?"

Sam scrubbed a hand over his face, "born ready." He winked at Dean, "let's do it." Smiling he tugged Dean out of the room.

The moment they were back outside they were surrounded once more. Apparently his family had been strategizing because the strong arm of his brother was thrown over his shoulder and he only got a glimpse of Sam as he was dragged off by his sister and mom. Dean rolled his eyes and punched at Michael's side, allowing them to guide him to the barbecue and hand him a beer. Dean didn't register much of the conversation, instead choosing to keep his eyes on Sam for any glimpse that he was over loaded by the women of his family.

"So Sam, tell us everything there is to know about you," Ashley insisted, settling onto the chair beside the one she'd just pushed him into and pressing a coke into his chest. "My brother practically worships you, for all I know you're some type of god."

Laughing, her mom shook her head and clicked her tongue, "Oh Ashley, don't you know you have to narrow things down so he can't weasel out of any questions?" Her bright green eyes landed on Sam as she smiled, "what do you do? Do you love my son? Are you two very serious?"

Sam's fingers curled around the coke and he watched Dean over Ashley's shoulder. The question made him laugh softly and he turned to Dean's mom. "He has your eyes," Sam murmured blinking, "and I absolutely love your son with all of my heart. I hope," Sam glanced back over at Dean, "to spend the rest of my life with that man." He blushed and looked back at Ashley then Mrs. Johnson, "I mean, if he'll have me."

The girl's crowned together at the same time, almost squealing with their excitement. "Oh thank goodness and here I thought Dean was _never_ going to find someone to commit himself too. So he hasn't mentioned, are you two living together? Does he treat you well? You're thin as a stick!" Mrs. Johnson reached out to cup Sam's elbow.

Ashley laughed, shaking her head, "Mom, there are probably some details you don't want to know."

"Well if they're living together they should at least be honest about it," she reasoned and rolled her shoulders. "I'm not naive; I know what you young folk get up to. I was that age once too." Turning back to Sam, she nodded encouragingly, "It's not a bad thing. I'm just curious."

Grinning Sam opened his can of Coke and took a sip. "Yes, Ma'am, I've been living with Dean for a while now. It's my first real home in a very long time and... it's great." Sam brushed his hair back off his forehead and glanced over at Dean quickly, smiling, to let him know he was fine. "By the way, I eat a lot. Dean says it's like feeding a bottomless pit. I'm just tall I guess..." Now that Sam was getting used to the attention he was actually kind of enjoying it.

"Clearly," Mrs. Johnson nodded, pleased to hear that her son was looking after Sam. "So how old are you? You look a little younger then Dean..."

"Aren't you working at the Health food Store?" Ashley asked swiftly, smiling reassuringly at Sam. "My mom and I have been on a real health kick recently. It must be really fun, especially since you probably get to make Dean eat all those healthy foods. We've been on him about his over indulgence in cheeseburgers for _ever_."

"Oh does he really eat the healthy food?" Mrs. Johnson lit up at the thought. "The men in our family have such a hard time laying off the fatty foods. You'll have to watch Dean on that."

"A lot of the food we eat I bring home from the store so we're doing really well. I make a lot of salads; I missed eating fresh vegetables while I was on the road. A salad from a restaurant is never quite the same as one you make yourself. Dean says you're quite a cook Mrs. Johnson - almost every time I ask him where he learned how to cook something _you're the answer." Sam smiled thankfully at Ashley. He was pretty sure that his age wouldn't be much of an issue later on but he wanted people to just get to know him as Sam, without thinking about how young he was._

 _"Oh," Mrs. Johnson beamed and turned to look at her son, eyes widening, "speaking of..." she glanced at them and shook her head.”I'll be right back," pushing out of the chair she headed toward the barbecue, hollering, "Michael you can't cook that chicken by those steaks! The flavor will rub off and it will be all wrong!"_

 _Ashley turned back to Sam and smiled softly. "She loves you. Which, well my mom pretty loves everyone but when it comes to her baby's boyfriend, I can honestly say you're the only one she's instantly taken too."_

 _Sinking down in his chair a little Sam blew out a breath, "thanks, it's important. And you..." he smiled up at her, "I've heard a _lot_ about you." Sam knew that Ashley had been the one person that Dean had relied on when things were difficult for him. It meant a lot to Sam that she's been there._

"It better all be good things," Ashley laughed, tilting her head back slightly. "Dean knows I have a collection of stories about him that he'd rather I not share," she sighed softly, glancing at her brother's over her shoulder before looking back at Sam and fixing him with steely green eyes. "You know I'll castrate you if you hurt my brother right?"

"Uh," Sam blinked a few times, "I didn't know that but ... consider me warned." He smiled and looked down at the coke he was holding. "Ashley? I really love Dean." Sam looked over at his lover where he was ducking fake punches from his brother-in-law. "I _think_ he knows how much, but I'm gonna make it my job to make _sure_ he never doubts it for a moment." He looked back at Ashley, eyes teary once more, "God, I'm so emotional today, I'm not normally like this..." He grinned and rubbed his face quickly.

"Well I'd say you're just a perfect match for Dean," Ashley said softly and laid her hand on his arm, squeezing gently. "He is _such_ an emotional wreck sometimes. But... I know he loves you. Every time I talk to him he gushes about you until I make him shut up. He's... happier than I've ever seen him. So thanks for that," she grinned at Sam and pushed up from the chair. "Come on, let's go rescue your boy before my husband pisses him off too much. You know how sensitive he is," she laughed.

Sam raced across the patio and leaped at Dean holding his arms so that his brother-in-law could give him a _noogie_. Sam wasn't sure what it was but it involved messing up Dean's hair and a lot of squirming and swearing. Sam was laughing so hard by the time they'd finished that he had no choice but to let go of Dean.

"Oh my god everyone _hates_ me," Dean sighed dramatically and rounded on Sam, snagging an arm around him and pulling him close. "You little ass you're supposed to be on my side," he grumbled as he pulled Sam hard against him.

Still laughing, Sam blushed and slid his arm around Dean's waist. "I _am_ on your side, I just can't be seen to be _too_ biased in public." Sam slipped his fingers just under the bottom of Dean's shirt, wanting to feel the warmth of him.

"Of course not, wouldn't want to suggest anything," Dean snorted and smiled warmly at Sam before dipping forward to brush their lips together. He snorted into the kiss when his family echoed a loud _awww_ behind them. Rolling his eyes Dean pulled back to grin at Sam. "I think they've already adopted you."

Sam could feel his cheeks burning and let go of Dean's waist to slip behind him, leaning his chin on his shoulder. "I love you," he whispered as he slid forward. He watched Dean's family moving about, laughing, getting the food ready and he felt at home.

Leaning back into Sam's body, Dean smiled warmly and laid his hands over Sam's. "Love you too." He sighed happily, enjoying the feeling of being more content then he had ever been in his entire life.


End file.
